<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=473102" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Grave Yard</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Vandals knocked down the gravestones in the churchyard during the night. <br>They didn’t give a damn about the dead, their families, or what is right. <br>The grave yard vandals have gone and the usual tranquillity has returned <br>to the field of the dead, the flattened headstones and broken urns. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The peace and quiet of the night is disturbed by an owl’s repeated hoot, <br>and the flapping of wings, as the Belfry’s bats come flying through. <br>The moon bright sky suddenly vanishes behind a darkened cloud, <br>as if to give a wake up sign to a transparent figure covered by a shroud. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The howling grey figure hovers over the flattened epitaphs and marble stones, <br>waking the dormant spirits who respond with unhappy morbid moans. <br>The ghosts of the old and newly departed are rising in anger this very night <br>to take revenge on the desecrators who broke the dark’s link with the light. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hosts of vengeful grey blue ghosts and spirits swirl and mingle together, <br>and then separate to seek out the vandals in this night of damp cold weather. <br>With deathly haunting cries they howl and search, as they travel with the wind <br>through keyholes, cracks in doors and windows, they examine everything. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">One by one the vandals were cornered and reminded of their shame; <br>continually they shout, “No harm was meant.., it was just a game.” <br>Swirling in the air the ghouls prodded and pulled, as they hounded them on <br>back to the grave yard where they would face what they had done. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Into a large dark cold tomb the weeping gravestone wreckers were driven, <br>with blood running from their wounds; they were not to be forgiven. <br>The moaning, groaning, spirits of the dead followed them into the crypt, <br>slamming shut the heavy door so hard it made one of the vandals shit. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The ghosts and spirits encircled the living, and raised in them pure hell, <br>and by daylight the following morning no one was alive to yell, or tell. <br>It was several days later that seven heart attack victims were discovered, <br>with tormented faces, mouths wide open, and eyes with coins covered.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Orlando+Belo">Orlando Belo</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=473102" data-title="The Grave Yard de Orlando Belo" data-description="Vandals knocked down the gravestones in the churchyard during the night. They didn’t give a damn about the dead, their families, or what is right. The grave yard vandals have gone and the usual tranquillity has returned to the field of the de..."></div> </div> </div>

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