What do you dream of now, my friend
Beneath this hallowed ground?
Do angels nestle with you there
Within your sodden shroud?
Or has your spirit gone aloft
Already Heaven bound?
I ask, and though I’m listening,
I do not hear a sound.
It isn’t like you to abstain.
Can not one word be found
To lend some ease of misery?
This silence is so loud.
JaniceT