The House of the Dead

At the doorstep the little girl sits Misled by a false hope Daddy will come soon And gather into his arms his sweet dove What will he bring for her today? A flower? A bar of chocolate? The young wife grows silent as the night Grief pouring out of her eyes Her youth, her dreams lost Just like that, in a flash Wishing she could be like the little girl Too young to understand death and demise Shuzbee wonders why his master aint home yet His wagging tail drops down His ears alert to pick up the silliest sound Its time to play fetch Shouldn’t master be walking up the path right now? Flattening the grass? A silence hangs over the house Death eminent from a mile away The air is heavy Deprived of breath A step into the house of the deceased And you feel the chill of the dead