Rose Of Death Poem by Robert Abok

“Rest in peace” were the inscriptions I read,
Down beneath these writings lay thy body,
With no path to follow tears evaporated,
For even the sun saw it an understatement to weep.

How do I narrate thy demise to her?
Oh no, why didn’t you tell me to dismiss,
The very plans I knew not you could miss,
Now I stand stranded by a heaped ground,
With this rose dying in my hand.

Here I am,
Still waiting for that random sign,
Telling me that this but a dream,
I want to see you smile when I awake,
For the pastor awaits to officiate us to life.

God! I can see the undertaker,
Locking the gates, its time to go,
It’s true then, that you’re actually gone,
I burry this rose by thy grave.