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Read Poems by Ubong Kingsley

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This body of mine


Woe upon woes offing
To my creator I owe a debt
After this voyage of mine on earth
And I, to this burden of death endureth.

Woe upon this body of mine
‘Tis a stinking sand
This dust return; my soul demand
The thorns of life chokes, my spirit rebrand.

What fate has this body, but dust...?
For all this attention to beauty is vanity
But beauty of eternity neither fades nor bust
Below this earth the frame of man will suffer rust.

Oh man prepare your bed with fear
To your crown of joy be bold to hold
Lean on your master; his precept adhere
Then your tomb of fear will he turn to care.

What then shall we say is life?
With all man's ego and pride
We often ask, “do you know who I am?"
Why boast when your breath you cannot boost?

On earth we gather all the perishable fortunes,
They transcend not but here it ends.
To this end, man reflect and learn
That this body, an impending meal
To maggot a perfect feast

Be not proud with title too,
For all is vanity without excuse.

Copyright © Ubong Kingsley | Year Posted 2018


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