On the day of my father’s eve,
I search again for serenity.
Another thought lost and some more friends gained,
Cliched references to a life not quit.

Here I stay, with pain filled throat,
I tear, I repair and I loathe ;
This unknown reference pointing to lucidity
Another answer to the final question.

A new day dawns, a sky unfolds
Gives hope and a ritual foretold.
I await, eager to fulfill destiny
The soul and body reaching maturity.

It hurts, to live in agony;
It sears skin and heart with questions;
But there lies false solutions everywhere,
Can mind see truth in this worldly illusion ?

Scorned by the poor language,
Words inadequate to express thoughts.
Or is it the influence of wine and more
That fumbles intended poetry into conceited dribble ?

My father. Guide me. Or take me. Now.