Graveyard Sculpture -

You must not mind the cold

Still said to haunt this land

Long since gave up pretence

Like a graveyard sculpture in the storm

Where were they all years ago

Now having shaded out?

Make up a song of your destiny

We know when the valley streams flow

They leave their tatters on barb and thorn

The lone and level sands stretched far away

Persisting solemnly in an icy haze

Backed out of all this now too much for us

In a time made simple by th loss

The road there, that only at its hart, is your getting lost

Where were they all years ago?

Cold as a spring but yet so near its source

Now having shaded out

Down in the flood of remembrance

Make up a song of your destiny