dada.

dada.


To surmise in the existence of heroes,
some might sneer, myth woes.
Pish! As yet, they haven't met my Dad,
my indebtedness is ineffable, he's in Riyadh.

Torment is an understatement each time he's about to leave.
But that, he will cope so we may live.
Behind every great child is a truly amazing Father.
Seems obscure to come across the precise word,
to put on view how exultant I am to be his daughter.

He had crossed bridges none dared to go.
Trounced tons of battles life had to throw.
Then again, this Dad we have fears no evil.
Tangled complex occurrences he always can ravel.

For burning himself to bestow us light,
in a caliginous journey to a future that's bright.
His solitary quest for fortune overseas,
triggers the sadness one cannot merely cease.

Dearest father do us a favor,
be unassailable and out of harm's way in your chosen endeavor
In due season, to home you will return.
Only then, shall the most splendiferous smile be reborn.
Justine Almenario