LAMENTATIONS OF A SINKING SON

By Patrick Ngugi 

You behold the horizon

Scared of the sinking sun

That darkens your soul

N wish you could stop its flight

Through the vast skies of time

Dumping us into the dusk of unknown

Basking in the twilight

The dawn of enlightenment

Shines on illusion Earth

Coveted things don’t matter

Now they’re worthless, meaningless

Filthy cash in the bank, fine mansions

Cold castle made of unfeeling marbles

Falter before the altar of incurable ailment

Filling you with emptiness

Bitterness, Loneliness, regret, nostalgia

You develop love-hate affair with your wheelchair

Now your constant companion

Who how imprisons you

Gone is the vitality of youth

Old and tired bones and sinews

Refuse to obey your mind

The body defying the spirit’s desire

Funny how – family, fond friends flee

Leaving strangers and former foes

To care for you once in a while

And your adult offspring in distant lands

Only chat with you on the net

Whatsapping and facebooking

With fake love and warmth – Lols; emogis

Oozing hollow resounding laughter

Reminding you of hollow ghostly giggle

Of the horror movies of eons ago

You now realize that eulogies

Are written not with pen and paper

But with the deeds that you do

Thoughts that you think

And speech that you speak

Yes – Simple things of life

Sharing concrete yet simple things

Time, love, listening ear, compassion,

Is what mattered most

Painful memories of little joys of life

Simple things you didn’t entertain

The smiles and hugs you didn’t share

The apologies that you didn’t offer

And forgiveness that you hoarded

The compliments you held back

The thank yous that remained stuck

In your throat threatening to choke

The wealth you worked hard for

Squandered by lazybones

Bootlickers and psychopaths

When the dreaded time arrives

To which sometimes you look forward to

Crocodiles will gatecrash your funeral

To ensure you are cremated or buried to death

And sincerely weep at your tomb

A gaze again towards the horizon

Is greeted by warm rising sun

That showers a touch of nostalgia

Of time and cash loosely spent

And as they pick you to bask in the sun

Your bones hurt, as your heart

Nostalgia, regret sets in,

As you pray for the sinking sun

To hold on, albeit for few hours

©Patrick Ngugi 130518