A man in a coat, drenched from rain,
Sustaining his sorrows, to try and stand up again,
First the spouse, now the young,
The very first tragedy in life had begun,
Arriving home after the news struck,
He believed that he had ran out of luck,
His telephone rang, but no response,
His heart and mind drifted aloft,
Laying in bed, a processed thought,
" Did God punish me for acting distraught? "
Dreams weren't woven, laying disjoined,
Until the moment he envisioned a rusty copper coin,
Hovering in the air, the heads turned hither where he stood,
The face concealed with a tarnished hood,
It spoke, the language hard to apprehend,
The rusty debris ha