The Watchful Lion

The Lion watches high and proud
    His roar forever silent
The milkmaid's woes upon her brow
    As she travels with her basin
The thinker sits, pen in hand
    A book doth brew in mind
The grave the place these must end
    Look there and thou shall find

A soldier's grave
     A child lost
Flowers bloom
     As angels watch

Fear not the Lion's teeth
     Nor the trumpet blown
The grave in our eternal sleep
    The last stop for our bones
         Watched over by stones

Peaceful
Eternal

A journey ended with return
    Ash to ash, dust to dust
Resist it not by will nor force
     Tis the only course
For time is the fire we mortals burn
     Final rest our bodies earn
The Lion always vigilant
     It waches, waits, and knows