942. Sonnet upon the Death of My Beloved Father

SONNET 942
By JH Sayyar
O silent house where once his laughter rang,
Now hushed beneath the weight of solemn air
No more his voice through morning’s sang,
No more his step ascends the waiting stair.
The hands that held my world with quiet might,
Now folded calm beneath the earth’s cold seam;
His eyes, stars that led me through the night,
Alas! Are shut forever in a dreamless dream
Yet in my weak veins his fire softly glows,
His strength endures in every tears I shed.
Though sorrow like a tide in silence grows,
He walks beside me still, though he is dead.

For love, though stilled by time’s cruel art,
But still beats, eternal, in my grieving heart.