Don’t weep at my grave...
  Am not there, at the grave....
      But there, with the love and care,
         who made me brave.

Am not there, in the shining stars...
  But will shine there,
      in the caring hearts.

Am there, with the challenges
  and unconditional love...
    As I never, allowed
        to give up while alive.

Don’t let your tears roll down..
As I ever, will be
    in the thousand smiles.

Don’t weep at my grave...
Am always there,
    as an inspiring wave.

You left me at dusk,
Gaunt and sad and gray,
And when the morning glow arose,
I could find you not.

The night before was faded
Like a withered rose, and
I could scarcely recall your smile,
Your sunflower smile.

Why were you taken from beside me?
I hope there is a reason, as the time
I’ve spent since you left has been
Measured and is of little worth.

Woe, my stomach is sick,
Tired of the ***** kicked nowhere,
Sick of all the goodies of where,
My stomach is sick.

Sick of butterflies that perch
and flutter, celebrating my not yet death ,
Slowly I die.

Surely, dead roses I will be buried,
My tombstone engraved THE GRAVED,
INGCWABA LOFILE(Grave of the death)
Love killed the death.

Bengifile the time ufika(I was dead the time you pitch)
Then, you breathed into my mouth
your soul of life
You were my last life.

My stomach is sick.

We are slaves
Nothing but slaves
Dominated by our convinctions
Buried by our ego

Come for me,

          but let it be a mortal wound..


For if I breath a breath...

Know that yours is a hastily
      
                     kept moment.

And obituarises aren't in
                      the vocabulary


                                         of


shallow graves.