the epitaph.

The epitaph epitomised epic life lived,

his demice marking end of an epoch.

The era was marked,

with no good but bad abound.

No one mourned,

for the epitaph spoke.

The epitaph was well-penned;

right and left,

on the tombstone it stilled-

solid.

A rose it was,

but thorny were interred memories-

Gone.

We wished not for the after-thoughts,

the good,

the bad,

the ugly.

The torment that engulfed tormented hearts,

covered in red earth,

we extirpated the unwanted.

Now we might sigh,

not with relief,

nor grief-

but with an affirmation its a past;

like time, that tick tacks,

going-not returning.

Bunguswa Writes.