Cimba’s Plea

By The Spika

In Mhangura’s hills, where sunshine plays,
A son of the soil, now lies in gray.
Cimba, a name that echoes through the land,
A heart that beats with love, now faltering hand in hand.

In this hospital room, where sterile walls prevail,
Cimba’s spirit wanes, his body frail.
The beeping machines, a constant, mournful sound,
As he waits for loved ones, to gather ’round.

Oh, dear family, friends, and loved ones dear,
Cimba’s heart cries out, “Please, come near!”
In this darkest hour, when shadows loom and fall,
He yearns for your touch, your gentle care, to hear your call.

A visit from you, would be a balm to his soul,
A reminder of love, that makes his heart whole.
To hold his hand, to wipe away his tears,
To whisper words of love, through all his doubts and fears.

In Mhangura’s fields, where maize and tobacco grow,
Cimba’s memories linger, of laughter, love, and toil that show.
But now, in this hospital bed, he lies confined,
His body weak, his heart and spirit, intertwined.

Oh, dear loved ones, don’t let him fade away,
Without a fight, without a final say.
Come visit Cimba, and hold on tight,
Let your love and presence, be his guiding light.

In these final moments, Cimba needs you near,
To share your love, to calm his fear.
A visit from you, will be his reprieve,
A chance to say goodbye, and find his peace to leave.

So come to him, with love in your heart,
And let’s cherish these moments, we’ll never be apart.
In Mhangura’s hills, where sunshine plays,
Cimba’s spirit will soar, with your love, in his final days.