Death Poem by okeme james

Rejoice not, oh death
For your end is near
Your strength ends here
In this wicked world
Where you deliberate your misdeeds.

Oh grave! Aren't you satisfied?
You've only succeeded in just an aspect
In taking your property back
The dust I speak of
Since men were made from it.

You may snatch their bodies
But the legacies of men can't be tampered with
Incorruptible they are
They live on
So, why celebrate a lost battle?

Put in mind, Oh death
That a day cometh
When ye shall be restive in pieces
While those you deprive of life rest in peace.