Marriage Of Stones!

I walk towards my grave, unknowingly
And the petite pebbles, they
Promise to be my mate, in the journey;
And I accept the proposal in fancy.

My feet, few joints and
Other incredible limbs pray, and
Each one of them takes on the journey.

You need little prayers and
Not so pleasant pleas,
They are afraid:
The bondage, the delight and the haunting!

Little beyond the gaze,
I see my grave
Few sprouts of marigold saplings
Few careless cinders, and
A tidy mound.

My petite mates, they
Ask me questions unknown, and
Wanted me to molest their inhibitions
But the journey continues
Chants, garlands, pipers.

A beautiful marriage.