Olayemi

Raise my hand beyond your prowess, A beautiful harmstrong of the running hill. In a watch I saw him coming to trespass, Of which his coming was beyond my will. You have come to me with bow and arrow, These I have none but with my power I will make you bow. In no other thought my mind glimpse to him that without notice invade us, That neither ogun in its might can be of help, From then our win win become loose loose. The breath of God do call but no one could hear, Before ascending for judgement that all do err. Olayemi, the great priest of the most high, Why could you leave without letting us know the notice of owner to take possession written to you? Like our landlords do glory when their glutton is calling for help. Our priest and father is gone without anything we can do. Yet many in foolishness have forgotten that soon they will be dust. Of what essence is the power of the powerful, When the power can't save him below the sixth feet? Say me well to Oshitelu and Adejobi our matyrrs. Adieu, Adieu!