Speak of Death
He sat up in the bed with his thin face buried deep into in his small lap,
And for a brief moment his head was a pillow as he took a nap.
Slowly lifting his head, the sun greeted his face with its red, hot stare,
And his thoughts drifted off to places that were far but in this mind so near.
The chirping of the red and yellow birds and the buzzing of the honey-filled bees,
And the dancing waves down by the sea and the lush , green coconut trees.
His heart sang a sweet, melodious tune as the memories made his body dance,
And in that very moment he wished that he could be given another chance.
He clinged to the soft ,white pillow and his face was a swimming pool,
And he heard a gentle whisper in his ear, man, you are no fool.
Life was a raging fire that consumed his mind, body and soul,
How quickly he became a shadow of his former self , like a broken-winged bird, less whole.
With frail, shaking hands he clenched his fists and his sobs could wake the sleeping village too,
He tossed and turned in anguish , screaming like a tormented demon not knowing what to do.
His deep , anguishing pain was unbearable like a ton of bricks on an infant’s back,
And in that moment he wished , oh how he wished that death would come and take his stack.
Silence was now his only company as day turned from a blazing sun to a dark and cold night,
His heart was a ship without any anchor in the deep ,wide ocean and he knew that he would be out of sight.
Copyright ©
Viviene Ramsay
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