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
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