Another Nothing Poem by Adeosun Olamide

In their places, the flowers wilt
And the grasses ever more, their shootings, do,
On Samels, where the glorious ones lie,
No more the breezes wander there, no more,
Or the sun, its golden rays to rest, put, no more
And though before, they roamed there, solely,
Samels, where the glorious ones do sleep
They sleep, their yearnings undone by death,
To give the strands of their skin to the vain, displeasing,
Leaning out their nectars to the unworthy,
Exhaling to the despair or desert, a douse
Or to undress the flesh they drown in,
When their sorrows, like the heavens,
Glowed towards them, the unseemly, out of reach,
For to soothing their sores, they ever dreamt,
But now, no more,
For in this sleep, their yearnings, undone by death.
Yes, they sleep, their yearnings undone by death,
Wrapt there, daughters, butterflies, worn out beetles,
Whose beauty fed the faltered, forged their thirst,
But the faltered, falter no more, and the hungry,
The hungry have lost their wretched hopes,
For they know no more Samels, where their glorious ones lay,
Nor roam a more the night, searching for their ghosts,
Or hear from their bellies, their souls they swore immortal,
And their sun, breezed to where the flowers blossom.