I am a helpless child,
Through my pathless wilderness;
The wind blows around and round,
All streams run into the sea,
Though the see is never full.
Who shall remember thee for my deed?
All my seed labored under the sun;
Is now an endless vanity.
A man profit nothing;
His casket, a small abode for treasure,
The sun rises without pressure.
We are a passing generation as kisses.
Our life a bitter cup fill with fun.
A soaring summer sun;
An autumn rustling tree.
A flowerless winter,
My ghost a danceless singer,
Such is my cemetery.
A noiseless misery.
The eyes of the living is full of tears.
Tears they should be crying themselves.
For all that we chase,
Is now integrity upon vanity rief-
A reaping sorrow and grief.
An endless rest at the grave,
To us that were once brave.
We all shall one day become ghost.
Eternity is a two-side coin,
May my spirit soar away to his Host.
💧💦©Sir Prince Ojoka ✍🏼📚
©princeojok
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