In an unforeseen years and crib Death has it’s sting clamped on my soul. The clock seconds ticks, but my heart-beat seized. My arm is harm-less in an armless top Legs are stretched on different axis.
I’m demoted from my luxury bed to a raffia mat. In a worthless white cloth I’m wrapped. “Tie me like a slave”; waiting to cross the Atlantic ocean Don’t dance with my remains; it’s mockery Lower me in a rectangular pit; like a planted yam setts.
My pen soaked my jotter with meaningful tears, Tell sympathizers and mourners: “My ears aches” Worms and dermestid are salivating to devour my flesh As the earth welcome back it’s long lost Dust.
Death is inevitable and unbearable The more you run, closer it appears It’s an uncommon friend we all hate We pray over it, but we remain it’s prey.
That is why you need Jesus to remain a Victor over every vector of Death
Written by: Rufai Rasheed RaySLeeM ©RaySLeeM ✍🏼