I walked through the gates where the old ones rest, Where the earth keeps stories beneath its chest. Rows of marble standing through the years, Holding names, holding love, holding tears. I carried a paper and a pencil in my hand, Searching for the names that came before who I am. Tracing every letter carved into the stone, Finding pieces of a family I’ve never known. There were mothers who prayed through the hardest days, Fathers who worked till their hands gave way. Children who laughed beneath the summer sun, Dreams that ended before they were done. A soldier’s name beneath a weathered sky, A final goodbye written before goodbye. A wedding ring, a faded flower, A lifetime remembered in a single hour. And the deeper I walked, The more I could see… These weren’t just stones… They were somebody’s memories. Tombstone… tombstone… Let me read your truth. Run my fingers across the letters, Feel the lives that once broke through. You’re more than just a marker Sleeping underneath the sky. You’re a mother’s final lullaby, A soldier’s last goodbye. Tombstone… I’m listening… To every soul still living In the stone. The morning fog danced through the iron gates, Like a thousand whispers carrying their names. Moss covered angels watched from above, Guarding the stories of sorrow and love. I saw dates carved deep into the marble, Proof that every life leaves a mark. Every number held a heartbeat, Every name carried a spark. They were somebody’s reason, Somebody’s home. Somebody who was loved Before they were stone. We all leave something behind, A story, a scar, a sign. A reminder that we mattered For a little piece of time. Tombstone… tombstone… Let me read your truth. Run my fingers across the letters, Feel the lives that once broke through. You’re more than just a marker Sleeping underneath the sky. You’re a mother’s final lullaby, A soldier’s last goodbye. Tombstone… I’m listening… To every soul still living In the stone. Someday someone may walk this path, Searching through the years. Looking for a piece of me, Through laughter and through tears. Maybe they’ll touch my name, Maybe they’ll wonder who I was. Maybe they’ll feel the love I left, Maybe they’ll know because… We’re never just a memory, Never just a name. We’re the hands that built tomorrow, We’re the fire, we’re the flame. Tombstone… tombstone… Tell them who we were. Tell them about the battles, And the love that made us sure. We were more than just a marker Sleeping underneath the sky. We were mothers, we were soldiers, We were reasons people cried. Tombstone… I’m listening… To every soul still living… In the stone. Names carved in marble… Stories carried on… As long as someone remembers… We’re never really gone.
