On the last day
Face to face
With a brazen horned imp
Called the terror – Death
There we stood furious
A child cried
Oh! He killed my father
Then a plump toddler
Wailed he killed Mama
Then a grey frame
Spat – he killed my lover
Then the angel
Was touched
When a broken addict
Said he stole my morals
Only then a beaming face
Gloomed saying he murdered sister
Each telling of a tale
A form of which is felt
For one alone
In comparison no one knows
Its beyond mere tears and sobs
So silence fell on all
In reminiscence
Of this sorrowful tally
If heaven was heavenly
It never showed
Until a nappy duet
Fumed – he killed our pet
Then laughter roared in echoed plummet.
