Graven Names
Beneath the earth where echoes sleep,
The graven names their vigil keep.
Each letter carved, each wound precise,
A memory sealed in stone and ice.
The chisel sang, the hammer fell, And marked the bounds of mortal shell. No cry could halt, no prayer could save, What time had claimed and earth would crave.
The hands that carved have turned to dust, The iron’s red, the tools have rust. Yet still the mark endures, enslaved A life, a sin, forever graved.
And should you pass that ancient place, You’ll feel the stone recall your face. For all who live must one day learn What’s graven once will not return.
The chisel sang, the hammer fell, And marked the bounds of mortal shell. No cry could halt, no prayer could save, What time had claimed and earth would crave.
The hands that carved have turned to dust, The iron’s red, the tools have rust. Yet still the mark endures, enslaved A life, a sin, forever graved.
And should you pass that ancient place, You’ll feel the stone recall your face. For all who live must one day learn What’s graven once will not return.
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