Words Rhymes & Rhythm

TIME IS A CRUEL HAND

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Time is a cruel hand
As I look up at the sky’s
Might constellations;
And weep like a widow
For my heart is wet as a bomb
Death is cold

I am so cold
As I use the rusted spade
To penetrate the wet soil
Deeper and deeper-
To dig your final place of rest
Your final goodbye
Death is cold

Prophetic souls sang in union
Dust to dust;
Ashes to ashes
And I brewed barrels of tears
In that hour; fair friend
I died a thousand deaths

Death is like a pebbled shore
It leaves stains of broken souls

*Inspired by the death of a close friend.

Written by: Abel Mfundo Dantyi

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