Sorrows Of A Longing Soul Poem by Gladden Scribbles

I have longed for the finality of today,
and it is sure the heart of may
the gracious month I first saw the ray
and the painful day,
God made momma's soul fly away
yes, it was death and life's day, that day
fate said, 'one must to die, one must to live'
and it made father's old love took her leave
yes, I saw him sunken in sorrow on our cleave
but he feigned delight to me to make me believe,
this life is only for us to live
and not to leave when at eve;
so, poor him, kissed me goodbye to find my bill
my tender self at the nurse's goodwill
yes, she too was pained I could feel her pain, untill,
a nurse rushed in to report an ill:
'it was a man who just went out to find his bill'
'that was rushed in, bleeding on his cotton twill'
the doctor ran out to save his life
but, just then there came the rife
and my only blood was taken from his life of strife
left with who will take care of my young life
as nobody knew my parent's relatives in life
I spent my first night with an housewife
another nurse on her night shift
she heard my tale and wept on my feet,
told sweet tales to keep me adrift
on the sea of my beloved and I sudden rift
she sang lullabies when I cried and called me gift
and asked in her care if I needed a lift:
'young rose, you shall live in peace,
'where there seems to be no bliss
'choose life over fate's early caprice
'and hence, I'll make your woes surcease
'and call this painful times to ease
'by the will of God, our peace.
but fate heard her wish and there came a man
my father's friend who was a clergyman
to whom I can say my story began
he claimed he knew Brian and Susan
and took me away from my lady's plan
'it is well, my dear Joanne
'come to the Lord's bosom
'and he will make you blossom
'so shall we go where the spirit says, 'come!
'into my sacred kingdom
'where all woes are overcome
'by man's devotedness in my sanctum.
my gentle self thought she found solace
a life filled with hope and grace
where no woes shall retrace my face
as I have already seen fate's vicious face.
I grew up in my helper's place,
taught to deify God in my early days
and resent all form of vices
no matter the rise
of its alluring eyes
yes, true I was to virtues trained in everyone's eyes
but fate triggered my cries
on my saviour's cold demise
I was four, I couldn't tell what was happening
daddy was shivering
and mummy crying
little did I know my saviour was dying
and while Uncle Sam was praying
I saw my helper ceased breathing.
what then was virtue to me again
when my family was sunken in the sea of pain
yes, I asked the creator in my pain
as daddy used to call him 'the main'
'O God what is your gain
'seeing daddy sleep beneath that rain?
'don't you say, 'never shall darkness prevail the light
'for those who are in your light?
'why was he denied of his right
'as a messenger of your light?
and as if I have done wrong in the Lord's sight
death again took mummy away one cold night
I was eighteen, a rosy and beautiful female
calm and religious and the dream of the young males
Uncle Sam was also in his twenties such a gentle male
who tried to make us a living but all to no avail
he was my helper's only child and a lover of tales
who told me part of my life when he was ail:
'dear Joanne, he used to say in sorrow
'i know fate may deny me of seeing tomorrow
'to duel with life's mean blow
'but take heart and brace yourself for this show
'coming in the nearest tomorrow
'till then may you say farewell to your sorrow.
but death see him to a worthy submission
fate was the nature of death's allegation
life was harsh, so he used his discretion
and joined burglars in my oblivion
yes, he was on his first mission,
when fate sought him death's attention;
there was once an uproar in zone C
so I went there in hunger to see,
what had disrupted the street's peace
but I was dismayed to see,
my brother burnt amidst some captured thieves
I was grieved but never denied of peace
for I thought what was it worth for
living within hope and grief since year four
when death started taking all whom I adore
denying them the stage of hoar
Yes, I knew I was someone fate truly deplore
and I was set to bear it no more
so as fate was the writer of my birth
so shall it be the one to write of my death.
but just as I was about to take my breath,
to drink from the flowing river of lethe
a man caught me calling on death
and my hope was again awaken by Seth
the man who took me off death's tree
and promised to drown my woes for free
in the heart of life's fateful sea,
where I could from ill flee
if only I could to life agree
and forget the thoughts of suffering's degree.
yes, Seth feigned kindness in my grieving week
a good care justly for the weak
but a pretentious defiler as I speak
who gave me a child I named Derek
and vanished to live on as a freak
to which he prided himself unique
and again, I was a prey of fate
Seth's child in my helpless estate
yes, my woes I knew he felt in my expecting state
as a labouring mother whose woes were to exacerbate
but I kept him for a reason I can relate,
fate could be mean but never is it of trait's
and my memories kept recalling my mother's fateful hour
where two states occured in fate's power
life was mine and death was her's;
so was my tale seeming like her's
in my longings to born my flower,
and surrender my soul to the owner;
yes, I lived on alms till my child was born
and it was there I knew mendicants in forlorn
whose woes were as many as the chorus at dawn
but lived on through the dusk and morn
retired in fate's wishful scorn
and expecting the denier of the morning sun.
yes, Derek, this concludes the tale of a passer-by,
your tale and what I have seen with these eyes
but fate has given me later joy seeing your eyes
as an end to these woes with your tries
that has just raised you high
but, fate has told death in my ailment that, it's my turn to die.