17.

There is a never-ending misty field that sits upon its own plane beyond the world of the living. There are no grave stones, but there doesn’t need to be. The mourning can be felt across the worlds. Sometimes a light shines upon the field and snakes its way through the mist in such a hauntingly beautiful way that it is easy to forget what is beneath the soil. None of the graves receive visitors. Who would want to? But sometimes a lone flower blooms upon a patch of disturbed soil. Each flower is all the mourning a corpse will receive, a thought in remembrance from the world of the living. Some graves never have a flower bloom upon their soil, others receive a never ending assortment.

No one thinks twice about where their hopes and dreams go & lie to rest when they’re no longer being kept alive by hope. Each dream that finds itself in the graveyard mourns for a life they could’ve lived.

But they never get angry.

They understnad that they are not always attainable, nor are they always wanted enough to be made real. But sometimes, every so often, a dream will find itself plucked from their resting place & settle into the mind of another. Given the opportunity for a chance to finally come alive.

The melancholy felt by the ones left behind seeping into the soul and reaching out to each other for comfort. But never jealous. They only wish that someone in the land of the living believed in themselves enough to bring their dreams back to life.