To A Dead Lad. Poem by Pius beeps Adamu

The Poor lad who sleeps here has erred.
To humanity and to the master yonder.
He has erred and has fully declared.
Now here beside his grave we sit and wonder.
Down in the belly of this concrete he lies.
And his smily face we shall see no more.
He has gone beyond the sights of our eyes.
Beyond the moon through death's golden door..
The music of his life has ended to soon.
Women in bitterness weep in pains.
 Who will undo this misfortune?
Oh, dust he was made; so shall be his remains..
Here we sit sobered  by his departure.
And wonder where lies the heart of death..
It is unfair though it is a curse on nature.
And counts from one's rejoicing birth..
Life is a battle we must all face.
But death is a war we can never win.
We die and no more shall be life's unending race.
In faith we are in he who has died for sin.