Still is the Night

Still is the night,
This pain is quite alright,
Grave screams inaudible screams,
Distorted in this dream.

Grey roses are in bloom,
They fit perfectly in this gloom,
In this yard of graves,
Singing with the pain.

Everything is changing now,
The winds pick up I hear them growl,
Ashes are just dust in the wind,
Tearing apart the phoenix within.

My first attempt at graveyard poetry.
-Sir Jestro