you died too young but just in time
it was a mercy to wrest you free
from the powers that sieged your walls and
stormed your gates.
you’re safe now, son, from axis threat –
the missiles spreading fire to your soul.
now lay you down on golden hills
wrapped in Arms
that shield from harm,
can i still miss you?
come wind and fire,
come tempest, ire
you’ll not reach my boy where he now knows life
where he waits for me with gleaming skin
for that someday when he’ll come sprinting, laughing, wildly waving
on ::Father’s:: day
at last. it’s all good
but for now – while mourning precedes morning – i’ll still go on missing
what was and
what could be and
of the man you are.