But For You And You, I'll Cry Some More Poem by Otega A

This, I confess;
I was a soldier hearted and strong
Tirelessly fighting by day and by night
Till I beheld your lifelessness,
Cold and still on the morgue keeper's bench
Soiled and void in your thrilling silence,
Gleaming again, and again with your vacant stare
Then I became as weak as I would without a spine.

The new day has come, but too soon.
It is an awakening that breaks the bones in my warrior's groom.
I moaned and sobbed;
But the moaning and sobbing could not pay.
Then I loosed my heart and jaws to weep loud and long;
Nights and days I wept, calling your names in the passing time.
Yet the air was still and death was hushed and dark
Like a sober day beneath the depths of the great seas.
Then I knew weeping, also, will not pay.

This, I have engraved on my stone;
"August 19th, be forever enshrouded from me.
I will abhor you till the day I die
For you've made my proud heart wobble this soon.
You stole from me when I yet groom for my sunny days."
So be forsaken August 19th, you are only a hardened thief
Deserving justly to be swept from the memory I will know.

You that journeyed, you and you I tell.
I was a fiddling hungry and unwise
When you bade your steps on your hasty voyage.
My heart is broken and blood floods my eyes in place of tears.
My soul is grounded; it groans from the thrills of despair.
My ears have learnt the rhythms of the sad melodies.
But for you and you, I will cry some more
That you'll float on my tears to the fountain of rest you should know
Till we meet again to part no more.