A Crack On The Ground

The last time I saw him breath he was asleep,
But the last time I saw him sleep,
I could not help but weep,
My tears trickled down and formed a sorrowful heap,

Lying there cold,
His face just seemed hollow,
Even though the faces around him,
Were drowning in sorrow,
Gone? To them it did not seem.

Gone in an instant like thunder,
Clear yet unexpected,
Leaving us all torn asunder,
And feeling rejected.

The cruel hand that fate lends in misery,
To me will forever be a mystery,
Who would have ever thought that he would be gone elsewhere,
And that I would be staring at an empty chair.

It pains me to see my mother wither in sadness,
To see my siblings roaming in emptiness,
And to watch the ship of our home,
Sink to the beds of nothingness,
Why did you have to go?

Dad I long for the day I will here you breathe again R.I.P

by Peter Gumbo

Comments (1)

'The cruel hand that fate lends in misery, To me will forever be a mystery, Who would have ever thought that he would be gone elsewhere, And that I would be staring at an empty chair.' _________________David Musyoka ________________________ Twilight is past and darkness reigns. The mem'ries of light, too, fade.. The future predicts unbridled pain. For me - a masquerade. Awake, I face fate's cruel test. Of bearing one more day, . The absence of your loving breast. And your sweet bouquet.. Love is strong, yet can't deny. The embers that remain. Will fail to soothe my mournful sigh, . Which I cannot contain. My days are spent as one destroyed. And wondering without hope. Of why I cannot fill this void. And why I cannot cope. 'Til death doth claim me and my soul. I shall love thee still.. 'Til then it is my lonesome role. To accept God's will.