The Whisper of Mortality
A single breath, a fleeting moment, Life's gentle dance, soon to be done. In the stillness, a whisper echoes, A cruel reminder that our time will come.
Like a dark specter that clings to our steps, Death follows, an unwelcome companion. Its wretched presence, a constant in our lives, A truth we desperately try to shun.
Yet, in its malevolent wake, no beauty emerges, Only a mocking chance to cherish each day. To live with intention? To love without fear? Hollow words, as the clock of life ticks away.
The Bouquet of Memories
My Dad died on August 19th, 2010. He died of rectal cancer, and it was the saddest moment of my life. I am the only female child, and neighbors and family refer to me as "Her father's wife" - a title I love.
My father, Mr. Brian, was a guitarist, a singer, a barber, and a football lover. He was the closest person to me. I saw him suffer through those painful months. He couldn't help it. Death conquered him. He gave in to it. Death, you are sure, an evil. And I hate it with you.
I hope to see him again, playing his guitar, with his well-structured set of teeth, laughing heartily when the Super Eagles win their matches. Oh, Death! No, death. You took the hope we had.
The only hope out of abject poverty, you wrecked the beautiful family with your sting, you are quite wicked. I knew it, you've dealt with a lot of people, and you did this to me.
Shadows of yesterday
In corners of the house where music once played, His guitar stands silent, strings unswayed.
The barber's chair, now empty and cold, Holds memories of stories left untold.
Each match day brings a hollower cheer, As I search the crowd for one who's not here.
The Super Eagles soar, but something's amiss, A shared joy now turned to loneliness.
Foot prints in Time
I trace the paths where you once walked, Through hallways filled with fading light.
Your fingerprints still mark the walls, Though years have dimmed them from our sight.
The garden where you taught me care, Each plant a lesson in your way, Now blooms with memories of then, As seasons change from day to day.
Your tools still rest upon the shelf, Each one a story left behind, Of projects started, dreams unveiled, Of wisdom shared with humankind.
Echoes of Music
The guitar strings still hold your touch, Though silent now they may remain.
Each chord you played, each song you loved, Resounds within my heart's refrain.
The melodies you used to strum, Now float like ghosts upon the air, A symphony of memories, That proves you're still somehow right there.
The Super Eagles still play on, But victory's taste has changed its hue, For who can share these moments now, The way I used to share with you?
Father's Legacy
They say a father's love enduresBeyond the grave's dark, final call.That in the lessons that you taught,Your wisdom stands forever tall.
Each haircut given, each smile shared, Each moment spent in quiet peace, Has shaped the person I've become, Your influence will never cease.The neighborhood still speaks your name,In tones of reverence and love,"Her father's wife," they still proclaim, A title blessed by stars above.
The Dance of Grief
Grief, a hateful dance we must endure, A rush of emotions that fluctuate. It comes in surges, rising and receding, A testament to the love you've cruelly taken.
One moment, laughter feels like a betrayal, The next, tears stream down without care. A tormented mix of joy and anguish, As we struggle to live with the void that remains.
But in the depths of this darkest night, A glimmer of hope? Hah, you mock us. For grief, though heavy, is not forever?Lies, all lies - a journey we walk alone, forever.
Step by step, we find our way, Letting the memories guide us, day by day. Grief, a teacher? A companion, true? No, you're a relentless specter, reminding us love dies too.
The Eternal Embrace?
When the final breath has been drawn,And the heart's gentle rhythm has gone,What remains is not the flesh and bone,But the love you've cruelly taken, love you've overthrown.
For in the embrace of the eternal,Our souls find no resting place, only emptiness eternal.No longer bound by the constraints of time?We dance in the light Our spirits crushed, not free to shine.
Though the veil of mortality may fall,The bond of love? Transcends it all?A tapestry of memories, woven with care?You've severed those ties, leaving only despair.
So, let not the fear of death consume?In its wake, new life begins to bloom?A cycle of existence, a dance divine?No, death, you are the victor, love and life now intertwine.
Echoes of Absence
In the spaces where you used to be, Empty chairs and silent melodies, Your absence screams so deafening, While memories whisper on the breeze.
Each morning brings renewed pain,As consciousness grips my mind,Realizing once again you're gone,Leaving shattered dreams behind.
The world moves on, uncaring,While we're frozen in our grief, Time's arrow pierces forward,Offering no sweet relief.
Photos yellowed with age,Voice messages saved with care, Fragments of your essence, That prove you once were there.
Unspoken words
The conversations never finished,The wisdom left unshared, The future plans now vanished, The moments we'd have paired.
Each milestone passes quietly, Without your gentle guide, The void grows ever deeper, As time continues to slide.
The Weight of Memory
Some say time heals all wounds,But they don't understand this truth: That every passing season brings, New ways to miss your soothing voice.
Birthdays come and holidays pass, Each celebration tinged with gray, For in the midst of joyous moments, Your absence makes its weight display.
Children grow and life evolves, Stories left forever incomplete, Questions that will never find answers,Conversations we'll never meet.
Legacy of loss
They tell us to be grateful,For the time that we once shared,But gratitude feels hollow, When the pain cannot be spared.
In quiet moments of reflection, When the world has gone to sleep, The weight of loss feels heaviest, As memories make us weep.
Yet somehow we keep breathing, Though our hearts are torn apart, Living with this contradiction: A beating yet broken heart.
The price of love
Seasons turn and years pass by, But grief knows not time's measure, It dwells within our every breath, A dark and lasting treasure.
Perhaps this is the bargain, That all who love must make,To know that joy comes paired with pain,That hearts were made to break.
But knowing doesn't ease the ache, Or make the burden light, It simply marks us changed forever, By love's last painful flight.
So we carry on in silence,With wounds that never heal, Learning how to live around The emptiness we feel.
The final word
Death, you may have claimed them, Taken flesh and bone away, But something still remains here,That you cannot make decay.
In stories that we tell now, In tears we still must shed, In laughter born from memories, They live on, though they're dead.
This bitter consolation, Is all that you allow, A shadow of what once was whole, Is what we are left with now.
