Death A Common Enemy Poem by obinna tochi

Can one write their own obituary?
If lions were pets shall they play with our little ones?
Or at least dance with them?
Can the heart of our very souls be post-mortem?
If wishes were horses will the crippled ride on them?
If the dead can speak and the buried be seen,
Who would had feared dying?
Is there any that has the cure to death?
Even the medicine man that differed all sicknesses,
Did he not later succumb unto the friendly hug of death?
Is there any that has knee without a leg?
…for
I shall not cry…
…for
I shall not cry…
For men weep
And not cry…
Are there lotions thicker than love?
The goat that was chased from the farm has dash into the barn.
Who is the mother to thought?
Who is the father to knowledge?
Is death a metaphor?
Is death everywhere?
…I shall not cry
For…
…I shall not cry
For…
Men weep and not cry…
Perhaps dry bones will laugh again…
In the midst of people,
I am still lonely.
For in the ocean of rivers I still die of thirst.
Who can question a boxing thunder?
In his prime.
For death…
Death has unpeopled…
Unchurched…
And exterminated our race.
…for I shall not cry, men weep and not cry.