The Temple

At the temple I don't hear any moans

It is so calm and peaceful with no play

As I walk through in between the grave stones

I feel sorry for those who passed away

All the graves are made of stone, old and new

Some have moss, flowers, offerings, incense

The new stones are shiny and it is true

Some are rough, older and some have a fence

At some are statues, others look silver

Some have huge bouquets of pretty flowers

Thinking of the dead, I start to shiver

I am quickly warmed by the sun showers

As we walk away thinking that it�s nice

Many dead people, my word of advice