Standing over a family Tomb

This here is a inkstained tale,
about a lost and scarred man.
He lost beautiful illusion's veil,
and his goals he finally tried to ban.

~

While standing over a family tomb,
crying he shall not ever.
Holding these dead ones from the womb,
now their bonds he unwillingly did sever.

The capstone tells of names and of a date,
but his memories serve him better.
he stands not there in love nor hate,
even though it's closer to the latter.

He starts to read aloud the words of stone,
looking up, not fixing his gaze upon it.
Even though he stands forever alone,
deep within his eyes, many torches are lit.

''Hope'', she was a sweet young lass,
mourned by all was she.
But the test of pain she did not pass,
still weeping for her is he.

''Pain'' was a stout fellow,
in life only despised.
although it took long before he had to go,
he was loved only after he demised.

''Love'' had died at birth,
they never got to meet.
though he heard she would've brought warmth and mirth,
he would never know her heat.

''ignorance'' that jolly guy,
the life of every fest!
Even though the fool would sometimes lie,
one would think he can only jest.

''Bliss'' a serene woman,
never faltering her smile.
sweet words were drawn from her pen,
and never would she beguile.

''peace'' a rare sight to see,
his face only a slight smile does reveal.
and though he loved to be.
The wounds of this world could never heal.

The man shuddered with the wind,
as a feather fell on his shoulder.
The last name died because he sinned,
the feather weighed heavy as a boulder.

This last he loved with all his heart,
as she would allow him to dance and sing.
he never thought that they might part,
as together they would be like queen and king.

''Passion'' was her call,
and without her his face got pale.
He mourned for her in the graveyards hall,
welcoming the freezing cold gale.

Though he never believed in crying,
and tears to him remained unused.
saying he did not weep would be lying,
for his tears, this poem did muze.

Who was this man that stood on the grave,
whom over the tomb would see?
Was it a grave robbing knave,
or was it perhaps a manifestation of me?