Dying Poem by Sadman Kolawole benjamin
Dying
A bud of peace,
Under the ripening sun.
A breath of love,
A moon made fun.
Thither to deaths realm.
Lips and tongues in ay'em.
Ere he dies,
The sight semblance of the beautous sky.
Whence did he come.
Whither will he go.
Yon he dies,
He fains pray.
An epiphany of his future, thus in grey.
An evocative smile in deaths felicity.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
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4/24/2024 2:01:30 AM # 1.0.0.1119
