A Father's Story

It was a dull, chilly morning,
As those meek steps treaded past
Leaned on the broken knees, kept walking
For they knew, any step might be the last

Those eyes, scanned the world
To register in every detail
For they too knew, this might be
Their last vision, their last day

The road was blank, as his life
The fog hovered, as his pain
The silence intense, as his mind
Shouting to make him refrain

As he walked through the woods,
A little twig fell; a shiver ran down his spine
For he thought for a moment,
In his hand, death had its fingers entwined

No, not now, he thought again
For now, he couldn’t afford to leave
Just a few minutes more, he pleaded
A little more strength was his need

He looked back, his footprints etched
Deep in the snow, over the way
They would vanish, he knew that too
As his daughter’s had vanished the same way

A little more courage he gathered
A little more life he asked
Leaned on the broken knees, kept walking
For he knew, any step might be the last

She was waiting for him to return
Like she had waited for him every single day
Banging the doors of her coffin
To feel the flowers he kept on her grave

Today, she would be waiting too,
But the old man had lost his will,
His week knees were betraying his love
For that little girl who now lay still

A pale outline crossed his eyes,
Maybe her grave was near
He could hear her banging the door
Like she would every time she sensed him there

He fell, the little traces of life
Fading from him into the mist
As his body lay beside her
The flowers in his hand amiss

The wind blew, taking the flowers,
And placing them over their death bed
All through their existence, they had lived,
And now lay together dead……