I feel that I am going off track
Losing control of my train
Of thought
So if I die young, in this path
Get crashed and burnt
Bury me with my words
In the depth of your mind
Fly my remains on a chopper
And sprinkle it down to the earth
So particles of me get to explore
Places and spaces my soul craved
But every man has to answer
To the clarion call of the grave
Signed.
ReeZy Howells Rowland Orumbie
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful