How It Feels To Be The Father Who Lost His Daughter Much Before Her Time: Helpless

Losing her

The eyes tell the story,
Amidst too many covers, the truth lies within those eyes

Tied by the vows of silence, he dies a silent death every day;

Mourning about the daughter,
Whose death left him crippled;

The eyes tell the story,
The sleepless nights he spends, crushing his soul to erase her from his memories;
All that had happened made him inconsolable, sort of a lunatic
He looks up at the sky and gazes at the brightest star;
Thinks it to be her and throws smiles at it.
Lost in the sky painted in black, he misses her tantrums

In dreams, he still sees her, hears her calling out Papa,

Not every father is lucky to see his daughter getting married, he thinks
And I am that unlucky father who carried my daughter to the grave, he wept
His arms were not meant to take the bier of his daughter, but for supporting her during atrocities;
Destiny was insanely ruthless, robbed him of happiness
Took away his daughter and left him with intense grief,

That was a wonderful night, the night when she was born;
He held her small fingers and enjoyed it getting entwined with his;

Little did he know that his daughter would become an angel so soon.

What would people call me as? He asked himself,
I am neither a widower nor an orphan;
Has society kept any term for my loss? He wondered.
The loss he had was beyond any words, nothing could define it,

I can never hold your hands again, never caress your messy hair,

Never sing a lullaby, never hear you call out daddy again, he sobbed bitterly.
Although their journey together has ended,
He keeps her memories with him and walks along like a vagabond;

To that endless route where he can see her again.