Our Friends From the Underworld
OUR FRIENDS FROM THE UNDERWORLD ©
Soul to soul, our echoes roll
Melancholy from the depth of my divine despair
And a rush of blood which causeth bloodshot in the eye
And they smell fear like a canine
Filled with buried babies
And they all wear the aroma.
Never will her strong thought,
Raise the dust of a vanished race
A Chavez couldn't be raised like a Lazarus
Instead, he became bygones
But his love in the eye of a mother surfaces "e - motion"
And comes out between her lips,
Years refused to fade your memoirs in the mind of her,
As the beam glitters on a sail, its clear,
And showeth hope even in absolute desolation
So it seem,
As if to bring a son, her jewel from the underworld.
Strange like the dark summer dawns
His love is strong and dear in her heart
As the remembered kisses of a darling after extinction,
But his endless affection and heart of gold glimmering
Like a ghost; glimmers on to us
Perpetual moaning, strutting, but his remembrance
Be totally lost to the forgetting world
But not to an ever loving mother.
Just like an infant crying in the night, he seem
Sleeks into her bosom of love
And with no language but a cry.
No life fails as the grave
Where they (the dead) firmly trod, they falter
And failing in their weight of carelessness,
Stretching lame hands of faith
And waiting impatiently for judgement day.
*Dedicated to our friend and son, Andrew Chavez and to all that lost a bosom.
In loving memory of Andrew Chavez.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 10th Oct. 2017
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