Three words were all I held that day—
'I love you, ' a fleeting breath.
Yet their eyes remained tightly closed,
Frozen now in the grip of death.
A chance to speak, forever lost,
The boat, in evening's quiet shadow,
Capsized in Dal's dark, brooding waters,
Claiming lives in its silent throes.
My father, and his youngest child,
Returned at dawn from the lake's cold bed.
Seventeen lives the waters swallowed,
Seventeen souls to the heavens fled.
Shocked, my tears refused to fall,
For death had laid its hand on me.
The words unsaid tore at my chest,
A silence carved in eternity.
Would angels carry the love I bear,
And whisper it to those I mourn?
Would they sing the song I left unsung,
To soothe the ache of hearts forlorn?
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem