Temitope Adebowale

With the gaint's gaits wobbling,
tilting till he falls.
Sound the horn,
to announce the fall of an Iroko.
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Sometimes, life could bless you for being in a place,
Sometimes, it could punish you.
Sometimes, life is fair, other times, it is not
All these are as a result of our decisions
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What we do today, affects our tomorrow.
Our plans for tomorrow are as a result of what we are doing today as well as what is happening today.
Sowing good seeds today to germinate tomorrow thereby safegaurding and assuring our future.
Sow good seeds today so that posterity may judge you well.
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Who decides who deserve to get any of these
a blackman living in a white house?
a child from poor background ruling?
Who to be born with a silver spoon?
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In a man's search for who he is
In his search for who he will be,
He encounters so many problems.
some are like the quicksand, some like mud, some like mountains
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When I'm gone, what will be said about me
When my eyes are closed, my body motionless; no breathe in me.
When I no longer make decisions myself, when all I see (or not) is eternity,
will it be said that:
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The beast in me is dead, but that is the least of my problem
I have witnessed my mortality’s destruction, but I don’t know if my resurrection is guaranteed
To attain immortality
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The immortals envy the living
They envy every breathe, every flesh, every mortality of ours
For being immortal can tire a soul
Things never get more beautiful or better for them
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It was on a night with the full moon
After a day that was full of tease
Fueling our ecstasy
Threatening to make our cherries bloom
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After a long strive in this life
I'm to go home in an armada of zabras[1]
For the zains shall fall into pain after a long weary journey
For the sun have set to rise no more
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Even though i crave immortality
I will need to brave the grave to get it
With my head in a peaceful bow to this life
I will row into tomorrow
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The rains is brewing in the kettle
It steams condensing over the mountains
Hoping it spews its fluid upon us
To usher in the greens
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Waking up to see the hazy sunrise
Poachers on the rise

Reminiscing with a heartache
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The ugly vultures are here
Bearing our souls to you
Making our parents cry
Our mothers shouting "wayo Allah"
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In the face of death, we are reminded of our FLAWS
We are reminded of our WEAKNESSES, of our MORTALITY.
In every of our SMILE, in every FILTHY BREATHE of ours,
We know we have done one less of it before DEATH.
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