Last Day

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.

By Minstrel

Loves writing...

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