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Death Called Her


Death called to her
A tribute to my friend Cynthia
By L.J

Death called to her
It whispered her name in the shadows
It crept in the shadows of her room
It stole the light of day from her
‘Come unto me!’ It said.

Death called to her
Right from birth she was destined to be its’ friend
It stole her mother upon child birth
Her father remarried, a wicked soul emerged
Anguished, she always felt
‘Come unto me!’ It said.

Death called to her
The wicked soul stole her innocence
An adult woman, she grew fast to become
She fought and strived for survival
‘Come unto me!’ It said.

Death called to her
A matatu knocked down a motorcycle
A scream filled the air, and then silence
It took him away, a father from a child
Her major source of comfort and survival
‘Come unto me!’ It said.

 Death called to her
With nowhere left to call home, she left
Moved in with the first man she met
She forgoe continuing with her education
All hope in life had she lost
‘Come unto me!’ It said.

Death called to her
A few months later, it whispered again
Loudly this time
The ground mourned the loss of a young one
From dust you came and from dust you return
‘Come unto me.’ The ground accepted her


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