As the Dead Walk Away, the Living Buried in the Womb
The procession moves slowly, between headstones and statuary, Between the future and the past, while the present’s in bloom. Heads bowed and lips quiver as misplaced sadness resounds Prayers are rote although comforting; crying hands touch the tomb. Last words fall tenderly as tears lead the solemn return As the dead walk away, the living buried in the womb Sign in to see full entry.