Patriarch, Roller Coaster

Roller coaster by ian munywe   Shuffling of many a feet in the street, sighing reluctantly in this awful road. As we draw closer to alien things, what we saw before not in sync, Far so far we have trod, even afar we must not stop to thirst.     Events as they present, to decipher remains quite a task, A glance back then now and then, we best infer to savour past, Rising to coos and hoots drawn, chilly down with eyes heavy so worn, Constant transit out of outskirts, rampant activity spits in skirts, Endeavour wherever however, whatsoever, sole goal to gain favour, Far so far we have trod, even afar we must not stop to thirst.     Unprecedented as they took place, unexpected an understatement with sentiment, Walking past long left gates, reading and writing again embraced, Opportunities widely come across, gross charge mostly for better, Rekindles acquaintance after enough sunsets, cease of quite dramatic audience in occurrence, Far so far we have trod even afar we must not stop to thirst.     Looming sunrise inevitably so, dimming light at the end of a tunnel, Arbiter remains key to be, aspiration maintains so we shall see, Dreams and visions a regular, a manifestation of favor from above, Amidst good and evil, an envisioned mortal is seen for tomorrow, Far as far we have trod, even afar we must not stop to thirst.     Patriarch by ian munywe   Revered by us off springs, feared and respected all siblings, Principle rate not known such, astute beyond depiction and description, A  frown enough signal to all, a smile rare as a blue rose, Charismatic and envisioned in immerse, a true hero eminent salute not forthcoming, Moral abiding oral chiding he did not spare, a longing to live up to such shrewd character, Assonance alliteration repletion by all means, not close to describe a man of such predisposition.     Industry a way of life so rite, walking in the High deity’s path,  As from tree trunk sprouts branches, daughters and sons’ inception such blessing, Strict as a disciplinarian quite daunting, if we could only turn back the hands of time, Memories still linger from childhood, an erosion to rest his soul upon solace, Even as age draws closer not  a bother, in our hearts we shall honor and ponder, Still a living legend in our view, a manifestation of his greatness in our midst, Tears we held back such a task, I pray will wash away agony and tension, A song to our lost patriarch, how we still cling upon you.