Shooting Stars

Ever taken a stroll in symmetry,

Glancing at epitaphs of lamenting spirits.

Their wretched souls buried in pits.

Like fallen angel kicked out from sanctuary,

So also these souls in a phase transitory.

Waiting to be judged;so painfully reality hits.

Rarely a soul that celestial glory omits.

Such are their fate in perpetuity.

No less than a museum of fallen stars,

Once dazed with power waging wars.

Now in darkness peacefully sleep.

Where none of the living creatures creep.

Wondering when buried under chill,

How many of friends would visit still?