Midnight Plot

The moon, a sliver, thin and high,

cast shadows on the silent ground.

No streetlights here, no passing eye,

just quiet stones, without a sound.

My headlights swept across the rows,

white marble teeth against the black.

Each name a life, the wind that blows

a whispered story, coming back.

I shouldn't be here, lost and late,

but something held me, still and deep.

A chilling peace, accepting fate,

where restless secrets softly sleep.