People come from all around
Just to get a glimpse
They look for certain markers
Some people come every day of their lives to see
Someone who was once with them
Some brave the horrid weather
The ground being beaten by rain
Or cracked and dried in the sun
Like the bloodied lips of a soul
Lost in the desert
Mourners cloaked in the black of killed dreams
Weeping over the soul less bodies'
Final resting places
The souls, good or bad, look down upon them
As they float away to a better place.