Death Does Not Go Away Poem by PROMISE ITA OKPOHOUDEME

The eyes of the Earth are,
Watching the wailing of,
The waning Moon,

The ears are listening to,
The daily shivery living,
As the Earth open daily,
In constant untimely gone.

They've undressed the shield of this forest
And the Sky's an unblinking witness,
To the daily righteousness,
Measure to this green widow,
With her spoils fleeting from the window.

They've divided equally the toils!
Where are the spoils?
You've taken the stool,
Why planted here a blooded pool?

They've gathered an evil cloud
Against the helpless crowd

To every harvest against the helpless widow,
The wind stands erect from distant train,
To break the calabash and provoke the rain.

The caterpillars of this widow shall have no grave,
For loosen the latchet with no regard,
Your paths shall be flooded,
Erosion shall tipped in sands on your grave,
As eyes setting your tears go eternally blind.

The planters of daily brambles,
The cloud is a sorrowful calabash,
Waiting for the second coming of the wind
Oh, faithful innocent sweats,
By air, on land, by sea, etc,
Death does not go away.