Endless Rest

another poem my sister wrote

When it is dark enough,
you can see the stars.
When it is darker still
you can see the restless
dead in their endless sleep,
wandering the skies,
or tossing in their graves,
haunting their enemies,
following their loved ones,
wishing,
speaking,
moaning,
crying...
And then you realize that
not all the dead
dwell in this endless
rest. Because you
can hear the screaming.
Because you can see
the blood.