The sun never seems to shine on this grave.  The letters on the tombstone have long since faded, and many stories are told about whose bones lay buried in the dirt.  Until recently, it was overgrown with grass and weeds.  Someone had come and cleared the weeds, and the dirt looked as if it had been turned over.
A cursed grave, Graveyard
caretaker
mourner
I am a mourner from a local village.  I am standing graveside mourning the loss of a family member.  I am sad and cry easily.
Indeed, I can not imagine life without them.  It can be hard to get past the grief. I did not know it would be this hard. Every day is full of misery and longing to see them again.  Sometimes to suffer is nessecary to bring us closer to his holiness. I suppose you are right. I hope my suffering pleases his Holiness.  It is not that it pleases him, just that it tends to make one look to something more for comfort, for we ourselves are weak. I see, the ways of his Holiness are still so mysterious to me. I can not fathom how I could be so weak I suppose we all can be, it is just what drives us to that point. Do you not get sad working here all the time? It must be so depressing No I cannot say I do, if to suffer is holy I'll bear my share of the pain. You must be so strong then. I couldn't survive a day alone in this dismal and decrepit graveyard! The heavier a burden a person is able to carry without breaking the stronger they become.