I passed a cemetery of the long lost
Of poor souls who paid the cost
I thought while walking as I pass on by
Thinking they have nothing to say
As I paused in step along my way
But in peace with no more words
I thought they alone hear the birds
Pray my footsteps did not disturb them?
No more to argue, fuss and fight
Resting quietly both day and night
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited) 