To And Fro Poem by Lihle Shezi

To and fro,
upon this still sadness.
(a dedication to Panana,
may the Lord allow you read
this when you wake up)

To and fro,
upon this still sadness.
Thou, seasons grave
the corpse of
seedless flowers.
Spring too,
blossoms pale froths
of the happiness
that was.
A loving and caring
mother left her
child, to lone
his cries away and die.
She left him
near the altar
where death begins
and spys.

To and fro
upon this still sadness.
Young and mighty lads,
There is nothing
we find afterlife,
excepts dolour praise
of what you could
have done,
had not this selfish
love melt your heart.
Except the sins
unshun.

To and fro
upon this still sadness.
Place no tulip upon
my grave, for
love got me here,
sad and sorry
for my breath and fallacy
heart, unfair.

There is no right season,
nor age, nor garden
to die and to lose love.
For sadness remains still
as if she is watching
you bleed.