Eight years away from home
were the years that rob my life companions,
I lost all those that I love; the loved ones I so cherished dearly.
Now I stand in the centre of the village; empty-
without a voice to welcome me
except the memories of them; the twenty of them
engraved in their twenty separate headstones
to ***** to visit whenever I want for the rest of my life.
And if I return again in eight years time,
I sure know will find my footsteps fossilised along the muddy fields
and sandy beaches of that empty village.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
Eight years away from home
were the years that rob my life companions,
I lost all those that I love; the loved ones I so cherished dearly.
Now I stand in the centre of the village; empty-
without a voice to welcome me
except the memories of them; the twenty of them
engraved in their twenty separate headstones
to ***** to visit whenever I want for the rest of my life.
And if I return again in eight years time,
I sure know will find my footsteps fossilised along the muddy fields
and sandy beaches of that empty village.
Sacrifice for formal education far abroad is an activity of separation. We lose loved ones along the way and we missed them forever. By the time we get to our feet, we realised that the loved ones have gone forever. We only keep their memories hoping that they linger forever and a day.
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