The Conqueror

The anniversary of his death is upon us,

This winter breeze raises my neck hairs,

Starring down at the grave,

The temperal lobe inside my mind identifies the pain,

Pain?

Guilt?

What is the difference?

My father, my leader, my guide, my teacher gone.

But time appears frozen to me as life moves on,

Never will I forget where I come from.

It's not my fault his body could not function.

As time goes lingers on,

His health declined,

Once his organs shut down he died,

Health is important in life.

A message to live long and be strong continues.

Maybe next anniversary I will listen.