Rhimouna de blessed


Death


Father father
I cry out to my father’s name
When will my time come?
My patience’s has run out, my present ruin
Death

Father Father
I cry out your name
Why do you not seem to hear?
Am i barely such a fool?
My time is now, it should arrive for I am ready
The loss’s desire be near

Life’s pain and uncertainty, too much to bare
Sadness and confusion seems to follow like
The bee’s hive of stolen honey
I am ready to leave all behind,
I am finally ready to be with you for eternity
Only through the deaths knock and I open

Does deaths fantasy chafed me so
To an extent where the call to my Father is but a mere loss of word
Father Father
Death is only a measly desire

Submitted: Wednesday, April 02, 2014
Edited: Thursday, April 03, 2014

Topic of this poem: Death


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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Death calls me not, but i call Death. An ideal fantasy in moments of sadness, pain and confusion in life.

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