Sonnet Sunday's: Inevitable

A grove of weeping willows in decay

The impending doom fills all with dismay

Guarded by an ominous black steel gate

It definitely knows no time or date

Always gloomy is this foreboding place

Such a relief to see an angel’s face

From a distance, they’re imperceptible

You’re welcome, for all are acceptable

You can always find the ones you’re seeking

Silence is golden for no one’s speaking

Knowledge coming from the deep impressions

None holding onto worldly possessions

All shapes and sizes with the marbled mark

Remember to leave before it gets dark

Some visitors are often heard sobbing

While the other choose to do some robbing

The residents never have grunts or groans

One day you’ll be in this garden of stones