*On The Run*
Hunted by my past, trailed by my shadow,
Intoxicated by elixir of youth,
I climb the ìrókò beyond the leaves.
Wail of woes, dehydrated dreams
Crushed in the battlefield of the deep;
Love lost, hoarse voice, greying hairs.
The wind slaps me cold,
Drunk with evil pleasure,
Sweet sorrow envelopes me;
Then it dawns on me,
I’d frittered the forest and harried...
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