There Are No Bands In Death

There are no bands in death They are in various states Lifeless in varied postures Brought for different reasons Some palsy and age took their toll Others victims of premature machinations Many fell from jealous causatives A lot from envious enemies Modest number in the line of duty Protecting the sanctity of fatherland Oh yes the occupant of this space: He was the community’s tallest His height wrestled and intimated iroko trees… Now vanity This lady… I remember Had a voice sweeter than a Nightingale Her shrill high pitched soprano Bordered on the corridors of falsettos Cracked glasses unending Vanity upon vanity There are no bands in death Bones litter a grave’s mouth As cleaved and cut wood upon the earth Philosophical quandary: Point of no return Cessation of cessations ‘Fallacy of misplaced concreteness’ An end to spectrum of living To the living the dead never die: They are always with us In songs, stories and legacies They may fly away never to be seen Only on JUDGEMENT DAY The rest is for us to live right Walking the old paths wherein our Fathers walked For there are no bands in death.