The Sombre Voice

As I walk on,
with each step of mine 
becoming heavier than the last,
I see a figure watching me from a distance.

Soon after, they walk up to me,
hold out their hand for a shake 
and say, “I am Peace.”
I accept their hand, feeling their ice 

take over the temperature of my fingers.
We talk for hours
in this little park, observing 
every leaf as it reaches its last speech,

losing to a quiet crunch of release
to the ground,
then I am led
to a place I don’t recognize 

but no worry seems to take over;
only curiosity.
Peace drives me to the cemetery 
and looks at me for approval 

but I am gone, no longer with them.
I am instead with the vibrations 
I feel from the ground,
listening to the conversations of the dead.

I hear the sounds of bones
cracking against each other
while they are left in a pile of foreshadowing.
I am left with stones all around me

but the whispers of one, in particular,
enchant me as it beckons me forward. 
I reach a gravestone
and a sombre sea washes down on me.

Slowly, the gravestone begins to tell me
about all the adventures
their companion had gone on.
From the laughs to the tears,

I listen to stories
but the confused static overwhelms me
as I try to make sense of the noise.
I imagine my life flashing before my eyes.

I remember the pain and the hurt,
but I also smile at the memories: 
details like good or bad don’t matter anymore.
The moments rush at me,

attempting to push me down
but I stand unfazed,
too immersed at it all.
I feel everything and nothing at all

then I awake.
I find myself sitting by the gravestone 
in the midst of the night,
with a smile on my face.

With Peace’s focus now on me
as they finally approach the gravestone,
I open my mouth to say,

“I understand you.”