Thursday 8 December 2011

Father

Long gone are the warmth of the sun of North Africa,

Yet in your heart still sung the crickets at night,

Your life now from the past is a mere replica,

At night it is Rouiba's beauty, hoping that one day you might

See her again, feel the warmth, sing it's praises in your heart,

For this home of yours, that in your youth, you were forced to abandon,

A life so small, a heart so young dancing under a sun now torn apart,

What fate did to you was not fair, sadly for you, history can not be undone.

Oh Father of mine, all your life you held a love indestructible for her,

It was your childhood, your life, the sun, the freedom, a life now gone by,

How you spoke of the land, the sea, the garden and of that one little flower,

And no matter how you tried, you couldn't understand the real reason why.

Sometimes I pray, when you left us all behind it is to reside on a cloud above the land,

Maybe then you're leaving me behind would be less painful, knowing you there,

Even if so many times I've wished I'd been here to, one last time, hold your hand,

It is small reward to think you over there, on a cloud, happy again, mon Pere.


No comments:

Post a Comment