ODE OF DEATH

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An invisible spirit roams about,
Just like a shadow trailing paths of both the healthy and unhealthy.

The unforeseen force fighting for a soul,
Sneaking into places unexpectedly.

Fighting vigorously with a person just to collect what doesn’t belong to it,
Whoever wins counts himself lucky,
Whoever loses is said to be unlucky.

Taking the souls of both the young and old,
With a cold hand never prayed for by an individual.

Wailing where it gained its own victory
Cries where it gained its own smile.

Where it struck the sound of pain and cry
You hear people call the names of their beloved.

You hear the tears of Ah! Modupeola Iya Rhoda lo (Modupeola; Rhoda’s mother is gone).

Taking away both the ugly and beautiful,
Mimicking sleep as though it is.

Get away from me O you spirit of destruction
Get away O you unforeseen circumstances.

The end of an individual is in its hand
For at old age it comes willing without struggle.

Staying awake, fighting the fight, coming victorious is the defeat of this uncalled visitor called DEATH!


Written by Adegun Wuraola
wuraolaolamide@gmail.com