lost souls

As i walk into the cemetery,the original garden of eden, where souls are all equal a peaceful state somes over me. a sensation not of grief as i would have expected but of inner peace. i look upon the gravestones, the people forgotten their names reused, or perhaps simply figures registered time ago. i stop at my destination and look at the poem engraved on the white marble gravestone in black ink. Recently i haven't been able to sleep. i didn't know him well but he haunts my insomniac nights. the picture of him walking into his room and gulping down greedily his last self prescribed medicine. him taking his last breath and letting the warm sensation that sleeping pills give you take over his body. him lying down and his final thoughts of knowing that his torture on earth will finish shortly. deep in his sleep oblivious to pain, selfish and lonely sleeping eternally. It's windy outside and rain patters on his grave stone. It is running through my hair, cold drops of water, its the right scene, the right situation for me to be by his grave. i don't feel grief i just feel happy that im alive and nature is still with me. i can feel the wind on my hair, the cold on my face and the fresh breaths of air. so many unaswerred questions, why? how? would anything have helped him? As time goes on the pain will fade, his name will be forgotten and one day this gravestone will no longer be visited. A lost soul forgotten, his life uncompleted.