Cool and dark,
smelling of age,
and death.
Ossuaries stacked
with the remnants
of dreams,
of pain,
of potential
unattained.
We are all
keepers of our crypts;
and attend faithfully
to the remains
of that which
has gone,
has passed,
has disappeared
into time.
We must take time,
make the effort,
and rise to the light,
leaving dust and death
to entomb themselves:
we would shine;
we could triumph;
we would wonder
in the bright new morning.