14 years ago
thou boisterous ancient foe,
you crept in surreptitiously,
and bore a hole in our hearts.
It's 14 years now,
14 years of longing.
For seven years, the torrential rain battered us,
and we almost succumbed to the intensity of the rain.
a Moses arose,
and the lineage was rescued.
Father, I ache and bleed daily,
as I remember your tilling and planting seasons.
You planted many seeds in us.
Father, a little seed has sprouted,
and has borne many fruits,
succulent fruits indeed.
I wished I could give you a bite,
the curtain was drawn 14 years ago,
and now you are a complete dust.
Adieu, my father!
Adieu, the muse that brought out the poet in me.
The pain, grief and sorrow that I felt after my father's death forced me to look for a way of expressing the pent up emotion of anger and sadness; poetry gave me the answer. Over the years, I have fallen in love with poetry and no one can break the union