And yet there was nothing I could do.

Emile Dubois

Through these sunlit days and in the absence of grey clouds
I sat reminding, reminiscing and remembering better days
Whilst thinking ahead of what was to come, the curtain had began to descend
Shadows eclipsed my soul, my heart was bursting, yet all I could do was sit, I listened, I cared and did all I could, but nothing was enough..

In my mind I felt that there was something I was missing, your eyes had lost there joy in life, your mind was being eroded by time, an unseen enemy ravaged your body pushing bone onto nerves.

Oh! The pain we mortals endure, the crushing weight of that transcended you and filled the air with a melancholic hue.
I sat and listened, and yet there was nothing I could do, reminding, reminiscing and remembering, your whole being now being taken from me in the way cruel nature manifests to deny life to the living and bring death ever nearer, reverberating and echoing all around.
I sat with you through it all, those cries, those moans, those gasps - life's last death throes!
and yet there was nothing I could do.

  • Author: Emile Dubois (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 2nd, 2021 14:03
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 22
  • Users favorite of this poem: rebmasters
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Comments +


  • Doggerel Dave

    Captures in very real terms the wait, the turmoil and impotence attending the loss in such a close relationship, with also due focus on the terminally ill sufferer.
    I cannot like this work – it bought too much to the surface for me.
    It is, however powerful and accurate from my perspective – so thanks.

  • Saxon Crow

    Beautifully sad. I love this poem

  • L. B. Mek

    how well you've worded
    that feeling of inadequacy, in the face: of fated certainty...!
    still, if you're penning these poignant reminiscing's
    then you're the survivor: entrusted
    to share and enlighten, engaging and encouraging
    whispering that message, so few have learnt to heed!
    that our breath is fleeting
    blinking - is a past event, waiting
    and life, is the now: in all that we have left
    to partake - in...
    thanks for sharing, dear poet

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