The gathering

Dear beloved we are gathered here shivering, quivering
Standing beside the abyss, the sobbing chasm of a grave.
Sobbing, throbbing, in its eagerness
To the wailing of the gathered masses on the lonesome edge.
I shall never hear her voice calling.
The crowded ebb pushed forward to see her descent.
Farewell fair one, the harsh reality of life scraped your life.


 By Lebohang Kuenane ( Lesotho )

photo credits:  travel.nationalgeographic.com