Winter Grave

i woke up late this morning
late to see children skiing
happily on the snow-capped hillside,
i had forgotten my childhood memories,
old enough to see the man, lying, on a wooden bed..
there on the candle-lit room, asleep.. and gone

he had been written out of the script
just hours ago,
i can't prove to myself
that my father took his honors up
for i see him as if he was deep asleep,
along with the thought that he had not yet told me goodbye..

i stared at him,his face..
so composed but numb,asleep but dead..
i can't help to take the courage to say
how much he was a hero to me,
my playmate on my childhood days;
my bestfriend to whom i can entrust my stand..

i peeped in the window,
snows were falling outside..
and tears began to fell from my eyes,
but tried to comfort myself..
that the old man on the wooden bed..
will wake up by the end of the winter.