Creation Poem by Friday, Happy Oyamenda

Creation



When I lose the herbs of eternal youth, with memory disembodied* Then my feeble life; a tale of mystery, hidden beneath the shield of flesh, would drum on fresh souls* The inevitable, robbing my eyes of their light, will leave me a bag of bones* To no permanence will I abide, for the Premodial Fear of man conquers me

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Just thinking out loud....
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Friday, Happy Oyamenda

Friday, Happy Oyamenda

Benin City, Edo State, Nigeria
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