REQUIEM Of ThankGod Idris....
The songbird sang softly
In the earliest hours.
The sweet bed of roses.
The bell is struck,
The cock we hope to crow.
Domestic breed awakened.
Sob ribs made horrible noises
For-
The sunset wipped the morning dew.
The cloud frowns when its due.
'Tis a tradition, never to dig dipper!
Now, we befriend wind.
What a bitter pill swallowed,
The excruciating moment beclouded,
The indelible foot print that stays!
Wells into bitter-sweet souls
Yes! its dark moment.
Season came and gone,
Rain fell and stopped;
A memoir stitched up in souls.
Indeed "The ripest friut was saddest."
Here in the rustness, I come to queue,
To grasp a shadow
Or the likeness of wind.
Really, I lean to empty desires.
By. Ogangwu Simon Jonathan
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