‘Twas a sad, sad day when my dear Pallia passed away. I was lost with out her. She was my soul mate, my one and only, my dearest, and all that I couldn’t have; she gave me. Her death was of natural causes said doctors yet somewhere out there I cursed the heaven for stealing her away.
    I visited my Pallia often at her simple grave stone. She wanted it that way, a little lily trace in the corner and her name, nothing more. I wanted it that way too, however I wanted the world to know she was someone special, someone more then just Pallia Rose Danroth. I had the engraver add to the bottom, “loved by all, and will forever be in our hearts”. I knew she wouldn’t mind some little touch like that, in fact she probably assumed it. If not, then I could easily explain it to her when I saw her next, which would be soon enough.
     One bright day toward the beginning of the summer, I went to my Pallia’s grave. I always went on the same days every year: last day of the month, her birthday and our anniversary. This day was our anniversary, and as custom, I brought her a bouquet of fresh lilies. I sat there, said my peace to my dear, arranged the flowers beautifully upon her simply grave, promised her I’d be with her soon, and kissed the grave, then left.
    As I walked out of the cemetery, I couldn’t help but shake my head. The keeper had let the place gone wild. There was weeds and growth in many places it shouldn’t have been. There where graves which were crumbling and some that were partially covered with moss. A few ales down I noticed a square of cement. I bent down to examine it. A grave: a forgotten grave, which was left unattended to. I couldn’t make out the name; it was far to covered. I started to pry loose the dirt to at least get a name for poor lost soul. Slowly letter by letter I revealed a name. Robert Frew. Robert Frew I said to myself, poor man, has he no family who would at least let his resting-place be peaceful.
    I scrapped away the remaining dirt before getting up and going about my day. It was my anniversary after all. But I couldn’t help but fell sorry for the unfortunate Robert. I’m sure in his time; his friends and family wanted him to be known as something more, for I’m sure he was special. A gasped reached my thin lips. I’m sure he was, “loved by all, and will forever be in our hearts.” Yet his grave was buried and lost from the world. And then one day, when I am long gone, my dear Pallia’s grave and mine will be the same.

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