The Leaving of the Dead
As each day makes a desert way
A star falls to vanish in the sky of dark
Left are the others in the groaned world of our days
As each day beams, we lack in the part.
5. When will these missing flowers be found ?!.
To those we show our tattered feet.
The Owners of Land, where our germinations were bound
Now, being the ancestors of our fruits fleet
As the breeze blows, so they die.
10. Waving to the spirit world of spell,
To leave the Lizards on lie.
Who knows who would hear tonight bell?
For the dead leaving, and the leaving dead; where is their home ?
In God’s heaven or …Devil’s hell?
Copyright © Anthony Oni | Year Posted 2005
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