Walking Over Graves

Every step is a hymn. Every silence, a betrayal.

Every step is a betrayal.
And still I take it.

You don’t tiptoe.
You walk.
Over graves.

Names carved deep into stone.
Dates that don’t blink.
The grass has grown back, but the hollow beneath hums.

The song rises from nowhere.
Not air. Not sky.
Closer.
Bone-close.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you.
The dead mouthing along without lips.
Eyes shut.
Hands folded.
Still singing.

Heaven? You’re not sure it’s here.
Hell has always been absence.
The unanswered text.
The voice gone mid-sentence.
The controller ripped from the wall mid-game.
No warning. Just silence.

Walking over graves feels like cheating.
Like you skipped the suffering and still get to hear the ending.
Heaven is a place on earth with you.
Every step syncs to the chorus.

Crunch.
Bend.
Press.
Shoes against silence.
Shoes against centuries.

The stones don’t speak.
But the song does.
They say that the world was built for two.

And maybe it was.
Maybe that’s why you came.

To remember the graves don’t want pity.
They want weight.
They want communion.

The dead don’t mind the heaviness.
They mind how light we walk away.

// Scorpio Veil