Untouched by day by moon unlit
cold resting place for those deemed fit
high rank and majesty interned in stone
where we wander wondering how alone
these lives and deaths were really spent 
kings and queens of this cold tent
dust to dust settles in this lifeless place
humanity lost from each rigid face
symbols of life symbols of death
no spark of life each lonely wraith
just like others humble, pauper or brave
their lives came to nought but another grave

Poetry days #10.

All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.