Gray Blood Poem by Chukwuebuka Adebayo

Gray blood,
Flowing dirts and little rubbish
Through my bones, So dry as rod,
Out from languors and languish;
Boiling summers and harsh winters be;
Some sunburns know of these tales,
It was heard, but now I see;
That old men and snakes sloughes scales,
But like baby birthed in days ago;
Crying for milk and knew nothing
With clueless heart and feeble soul,
Gazing at stars, moon, wonderous thing,
And shouts of lullaby, ho, hey and hee!
Though comical but was witless to me
Gray blood,
From red turned grayier than ashes
With heats which can dry up a flood,
Murdering all men of their breathes
After all brows with my life leaped,
Naught again in this world, I fear
So I do mock my heart that plead,
That grave yawn, My death is near,
For scions hopes unto dews or snow;
As parleys too waits for wintry rain,
But what hope have I to merry now
When I shall sleep down the drain,
Sighs and give away my breath
And only rest that awaits me is death