Today We Gather to Celebrate Life...

 Epitaph poems are a prevalent part of the The Graveyard Book. Clearly, Bod is surrounded by them in his daily life. I have never thought to read any epitaph poems, let alone write them, but I suppose there is a first for everything. 

To start, I wanted to gather some inspiration for epitaph poems. So I looked up images and websites that gave ideas. I saw lots of snippets from poems: The Smoke Jumper by Nicholas Evans, On Death  by Kahlil Gibran, and even some verse from William Shakespeare. I am not sure why, but quoting someone else to memorialize another person feels off. I feel like writing something original and one of a kind for that person makes it special. It gives them their proper dues. However, summing up someone's life in few words is a large task and should not be taken lightly. I am not too worried about writing epitaph poems for the characters in this book because it is not a high stakes situation, but if this were in real life, I would be sweating. Profusely. 

Silas: 

"Stuck between life and death while surrounded by both. 

Now finding true life in death of his own."

I would write this for Silas to allude to his vampiric state of living. Though, when he truly dies he could live freely with the people he spent so many years taking care of . 

Bod: 

"Stumbled upon death and was welcomed with open arms. 

Learned its way and chose to stay. 

But when the time came, he chose life instead

Until it was his true time to live amongst the dead." 

I would write this poem for Bod because he fatefully wound up surrounded by a life of death. He grew up without knowing the tragedy he faced shortly after his life began, but he learned how to live with the dead and he was happy. However, since he leaves the graveyard at the very end, he goes to live his life, and when he dies for real, he will be welcomed back. 

Jack: 

"Spent his life taking it from others. 

His mistakes caught up to him and took hold

Becoming the master of his own demise." 

This is a witty ode to the way he died. The Sleer literally grabs ahold of him after he becomes its master, thus sealing his fate. Plus I didn't like him, so he should be shamed for his actions. If it were completely up to me, he wouldn't even get a gravestone, but I will be kind. 

Writing epitaph poems for people who do not actually exist is kind of fun. A bit morbid, but fun! Trying to sum up someone's life, actions, personality, etc. in enough characters to fit a tombstone is hard and daunting. Though, it is strangely beautiful. It greatly encourages full comprehension of characters and their lives. If you need any epitaph poems written in the future...I am now a professional.