The Crested Ridge Poem by Bolami lawal

This time our predictions
Had failed us,
Deep emotions were revealed
In our blank faces,
Our moods rebelled against
The solemn hymns;
As we inter the dead ingloriously-

Man sings in birth triumphantly
And comes to death with lonely tunes;

Suppose he aimed
At boundless hieght
Of angels,
Of saints,
Or mortals like them;
Who tends the soul
Unto limitless ease.

Suppose he lived
In conquest of self,
And attended his mind
To immortal usance;
Out of greed
And inordinate quest.

Suppose his gaze
Was firmly fixed,
Upon a realm
Where angels feast;
In ageless peace
And infinite bliss,
Beyond this world
Of fleeting fame.

Suppose he sowed
His finite days,
And sold himself
To selfless love
Or plant his prints
In monuments;
Then in death
Shall man rejoice,
For therein lies
'The crested ridge'.