By Philemon Adjekuko

He sat by her bed and with his head bowed sobbed without a word;
Bacause you don’t hear “sorry” from me any more, you think I habour no care;



Only heaven knows the weight in my heart as I bear the agony of the ailments that feast on your body;
Your nightly mourns sting my ears like the spines of a cactus.

Each day I lose a pint of my life
as I watch you drain.
I know not much is left of you
But not much is left of me either;

Yet, Impossible does not reside in him who died for you and me.

I wish I was Jesus even If just for you;

But if you lay down your soul in deference to the adder of death;
Take one last look behind, if you can;
The one in the shadow is no other but me;



No, I am not dying with you
You have died off what ails you
And I am coming to take you home;
Home to the feet of Jesus
Who redeemed You for me
to live in the life to come
Where pain and death
Will be unheard of, My Darling.

Facebook Comments


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here