DEATH

by

Clarius Ugwuoha

To ENGR. JACOB MODUPE OMOLE WHOSE GRAVE IS IN OUR HEARTS

The evil one that now and then
Preys on our hearts leaving us lousy with grief.
The stealth thief, the silent one,
I used to think , Death:
Would it ever be your turn to die?

When is it your turn to die?
Your hair is white like the sand by the sea,
Your face a mask, wrinkled twice,
Your limbs are gnarled,
Those you saw their birth have died centuries since
Death, you are old - Die!

Mourners have come to dance your funeral rites,
Drum beats fly caught now and then by the eager feet
The grave is dug ready to interr your ageless bones
But you have pulled a fast one on them.

You have stolen into your garden of grief
Ans plucked yet another unready soul
To die in your stead.
Death, you are afraid to die - die!

If I were you I would opt to die,
Having lived, Death, so long on earth
Having dined with kings and shaken
Their cowering hands
Having known every other thing
You should die, if but to know too
What it is to die!

NEXT?
Why don't you look at a shard of life
by: Ray Yorba
from: Wauna, WA, US

To visit all of Clarius Ugwuoha's poems, click HERE

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