There's this great mystery
that lies ahead,
but I have no clue as to where
I am headed, I just drift
with the passing wind.
Each time the bell clocks +1
signifying what time I have
left, it won't be much
anyways, I know I soon
will be past my time.
What people live for,
what people will die to have
alas, there's death in life
and life in death,
but somehow we seem
to exist someplace in-between
because the more we run
away from one, the sooner
the other finds us.
Still remains a mystery,
a great one what last words
our mouth will speak when
we finally embrace
coldness, and our body
grows stiff.
Decay will find these armor
we wear to sheath our soul
and spirit, they will feast
but starve only when all
that has become of us are
dry bones.
If many are fortunate they will
have a deafening quietness
sojourn with them as they
become one with the origin,
sands of clay, a sanctuary
for all that are weary from
that unending race called life.
We will be gone from the
surface of the earth, not totally,
just that the soil is turned
and we simply find ourselves
buried on alternating sides,
gone are the days of choice,
bliss will be the days of no
complaints, every decision
taken on our behalf will be
alright, after all,
the dead are content.
They shall look back, not to
behold our easily forgotten faces
but changes we've made,
positive or negative, lives
we touched or torched.
They shall look back,
we must have been wiped out
of existence, but our words
will remain, to define who we
once were, time will make
a spectacle out of everyone,
every soul, every breathing
being, but before it meets us,
we should decide the spot,
set the homes of our heart
in order, did we live or die
or became lost somewhere
in-between?
In search of meaning, and
reckless pursuit of purpose,
I had gone away, left myself
behind, deprived myself
of so much, risked all to rid
emptiness and regrets,
I had gone in search of
a great perhaps, the mystery
of mysteries.
Some precious stones
to gather, if there's a hidden
chest,
I hope to find it, I will find it
if time doesn't get jealous
and when the clock strikes +1,
by then I will be rested like
a fallen hero on the battlefront,
with decorated medals
on my chest.
Written and Edited
By @aduragbemi
Erinkitola A. Aduragbemi
28.01.2021