(Writing for Africa)
I looked deep into the silent eyes,
those ones that bore the pain.
A mother's tear that fed the world
dripped upon a parch cracked earth.
She bore the child,
hugged it it's final cradle,
kissed its tender soft hollow checks away
into a twilight lost of moments
This bearing of total decay.
A world crumbles apart
where the pangs of loss engulf.
Wears the saddened placement of faces
into a worn dream of wants.
The vengeance of a mother's love,
the despair upon her soul.
She peers dead upon the world,
haunting the fragment of life.
Till gone, the soft whisper of names
drains the demented mind away
into the soft visions of yesterday.
She turns upon the parched land
hearing the cries of others,
seeing the dropping of flies,
the fading of eyes,
The day all dies.