The Grave Poem by Adebayo Oluwatobi

Pilgrim tours but no return
To a land of doom, deep shadow
A soil with the deepest night
of gloom
whence daytime is as dusk
Ther' grows art but wild-flowers
Thy depths art deep'r than dungeon;
Broad'r than oceans

Silence holds thy night and noonday
Nev'r and ev'r hath seen not
Neith'r man, beast nor avains
who can stand to discover
Thy nocturnal fate

Truly, thy walls art forbidd'n
Beetle dwells with thou ganary
Help, wake the sleepin' ones
In thy impure beds
Sharp'r than shards

On you rest the hot blown shara wind
Thy noiselessness is felt from distance
Thou who owns the breath of merchants
Seized the spirit of the paupers
Imprison'd the brave
And thou eatup his carrion with moth

Grave, don't have cow!
Don't have a cow
Their mouth condemn'd ye
Not mine!
Everyman* ain't time to ruminate
In thine fiercy fury thou sentence 'em up
Thou slamm'd thy door on 'em face


Don't have a cow! don't have a cow!
Thy calmness issnt of cowardice
Equanimity of yours not of stupidity
Be still,
shut thy gob!
Hast'n not, i'm comin' soon,
Only that days delay
A Moment When mine geese wilt lay

But if am gone
Conceal me not amongst thy culprit
But the guiltless
save me a convert In thy Case
Make it unto me
A place of kip
From all distresses of life
Preserve mine gentle Soul
*Till titanic comes New YorK*
And i wave *tata* to this world