Return

The clock strikes at the hour of midnight

Those cold clammy fingers come into sight,

One more soul, and one more person

Is returning back to the world tonight.

Fingers covered in mud, cracking bones

With the sound of one painful groan,

Arose from one in a comb of stones.

Empty eyes reach out to the top,

With an eager heart that stopped,

Another head willing to return to dream

One more step, as it climbed atop.

It climbed out ready to own its urn,

The sound of the stones ready to turn,

One more soul shall always return.