At the precipice of life
So near the edge
Here there is no Spring,
Just a gradual Fall...
And the lonely...
Lonely longing
For seasons past
I see you, mother,
In your dark house
With him no longer there
Batallaban
Pero amaban
And us,
Unable to stay
And I see your light
Brilliant in your faith
That emanated our lives
Beacon of life,
Still shining bright
1 comment:
And then she died...
Life is daily, yet finite - even for the angels.
Post a Comment