Tuesday, 30 September 2014

A Father's Tears

My happiness is soaring and reaching eternal joy,
because the heavens have blessed me with a little boy.
The stars are singing of his day of birth,
and the winds whispered when he entered this world.

My son; my little baby taking his first breath of life,
my treasure; the apple to my glimmering eyes.
My dreams of being a father have today been granted,
and the odes bless my son; the ones the angels have chanted.

I could never be happier in my life for days to come,
alas I can finally say I have someone after me; my son.
Who will take after me; take example from what I teach him,
and he will become a figure whom everyone shall believe in

But the sun is dying and the winds lose their voice,
and the day grows cold while the magic is destroyed.
Why is it that I can no longer hear him breathing?
And why is it that his heart is no longer beating?

Who is that at the doorway; a crooked cloaked figure,
and he'a pointing towards me with a bone for a finger.
"Your son will not live for I have taken him,
And henceforth you shall always regret making him"

Suddenly the world has frozen around me,
my ear's reject all sound; my mind denies all doubts that found me.
My heart crumbling away; the darkness enveloping the day,
because I can no longer hear my son's wails.

He's dead. He's been taken away from my hands
and I don't want to believe; he never had a chance.
My heart is screaming the pain I dare not let loose,
For hell shall die of its reputation because of this truth.

Death will show no mercy even to the toddlers just born,
Like the lightning amidst the evilest of storms.
My tears flow like the mountain streams to rivers,
this pain is so unbearable; my joy has been hindered.
It's colder in this room; colder than the winter that lingers,
I just want to be burnt alive in the flames and the cinders.


Today my life no longer has a meaning,
and these questions; who were they deceiving?
The one who was preaching or the one who was believing,
in the end we will all be bleeding in our feelings.

My purpose has been taken away; my pride destroyed,
My joy has been sapped by the darkness without choice.
My tears are dry; no water remains inside for me to cry,
I bleed through my orifices asking God to let me die.
For there is no tomorrow that I ever wish to see,
and forever in misery I shall be as long as I am me.


No comments:

Post a Comment