GRAVE LAND

GRAVE LAND

Like a bird to nest so your bed prepared

As rain weep for days, so I lament

Yet off reasoning, you are

Scarlet in your eyes

Hardly you see me

Yet like a bird to nest so your bed prepared

Money to buy your bed

An effort to plead your blood

But all prove abortive

Though the night is not your interest

But it has come your feet

 

At last in grave LAND

You laid your mat for rest.

 

You covered yourself with decorated ugly plank

Because you responded not

They mourned for your mute

But you never mind again

 

by Abola OlaOluwa