Green grass disrupts the various stonework
Names upon names chiseled in those dreary slabs
Colorful flowers brought by grieving souls.

Here are the beds you can’t rise from
Slumber so deep that
God himself could not wake you.

How will you enter these fields?
fearing that you haven’t done enough

Will it be a joyous procession
on the memories of favorable deeds?

Will you sleep, your bed prepared?

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Quinn Murray is a high school senior in Michigan. He is an avid photographer and poet.