“Beyond graves, lie the undead – restless,
Those graves, i dare, you next stand –
mocked all, the girl, who cried,
who in all strength, feared and looked aside,
those graves and the yards, which took her soul,
and when she could, away from them, she stole.

fear, of fall from things in want,
fear, that feeds on heart and haunt,
the way one lives life and dreams,
to end in death of self and heart,
from one’s own self, life, now depart.

Fear none, for God be with you –
Forevermore still – this is true.

‘Tonight right there, i’ll sleep,
or all through night, watch, i’ll keep,
walk out of home, dead of night i’ll rise,
to the yards i’ll walk, and put to grave, these lies.’

Up the path, she walked steady and strong,
the place, the same, where when last the throng,
of bullies and haters, caused her, cried,
the same now, at dead of night, walks a stride.”