Till Death Do Us Part

by Subashen Naidoo
(Durban, South Africa)

Dark memories of poverty
Old clothes and torn shoes
The last morsel to eat and its a miracle thereafter
Flies swarm around the remains of garbage

Tattered book of life
Yet he has no reason to exist
Hand in hand with his wife
A smirk of youthful jealousy across his parched lips

As the natives walk by
Cursing this old stink to die
Another human taking earths space
Dreams that he couldn't embrace

Cracked teeth and a foul odour
Old age and dirt abrased hands
He opens his parched mouth
"Son please help a dying man"

Probably he entered his last breath
She could see a flicking
Appealing him to fight death
She fights to keep the clock ticking

A wife that has nothing
But priceless is her value
She had no Riches but she was rich
She had no food but she was full
How?

Her flesh had become one with him
Refusing to abandon the old man
The old age tradition was stamped
Marriage with sincere vows
"Till death do us part"