Tides Of Dried Oceans Poem by Lundi Ncuthu

Underneath the Earth's surface
There is a warehouse of corpses
Of good souls who died by mistake
Of accidents that left the people
In horrible wails, of bad scumbags
Who's hearts beat with violence
And there lies my lovely wife

Once, twice or thrice on weekends
There is a wooden gate down the road
We used to gaze and sympathize
Groups of saddened souls chanting
Wooden crosses left to rot in the cold
We used to go there to burry loved ones
Didn't know that one day it'll be us
We would go inside and only one out

I used to visit her, and talk to her
Though she is lying in the cold
With no words to speak
But I have tons of them
I would give anything to hear you
Talk back, I miss us and all we used
To be, all the sweet and sour days
All the beautiful memories come
Running like a wrecking ball
My heart wails and clamours for you

Its funny how we used to imagine
Our future, beautifully finished
I know you'll forever be a part of me
All the beautiful things I see
You be the soft morning breeze
You be the warmth of the winter sun
You be soothing spring blanket
Be the angel in my dreams
Be the tides of my dried ocean