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Showing posts from September, 2018

Life Above Death

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Play it back, show me those moments lost; Not of the darkest losses or those scornful years; In this silent yard where some fleshes has been to dust; Some alive has gone buried in fear ; Life is to live, only for a brief;  Wantonly full for those liberal with wit, Dust thou art, when thou returnest don’t grief, Hence a sunset at the wooden box in the pit; Many times in slumber, asleep like a lost soul, But thou In eternal slumber, six feet away in the unfathomable realm; Bounded by brotherhood; now severed at the crossroad, As the soil upheaved we wailed in whelm; Life is but an empty space adrift; Though voided with shouts and untimely climaxes; The air, The flesh; is just another makeshift; While on this side; I plead take all the fantasies; If thou could, wholeheartedly stay burnt in the sun, Fly the clouds like the birds in summer, Both the sunrise and set would be thy rhythm and song, Though the end knocks - life is just as normal.

First Cry

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It was a clear blue sky; The day of my tiny first cry; Though it was a silent darkly night; But the sky was unusually bright; Sparkling was the lonely star; Afar off at a glance so far; Wantonly in pain, swam the crimson flood; At two arms apart; So leaped from the dripping blood; Alas, this moment the softness of the tide; Battles with the roar of the joyous pride; Today in this white I humbly slay; At the end; in this white I will eternally lay; As this flesh wantonly groves it’s birthday; So as the spirit awakens beyond deathday; This is my prayer as I traverse this road; For a tender blue sky for the meek and bold; A beautiful love that’s true and deep; And a soft earth to rest when time to sleep. (Written on my birthday: 13.09.18) Gafar Odubote, “First Cry”, copyright 2018 ​