Dirge For Abolaji Poem by asaolu kolawole ifedayo

When death forced thee to sleep
beneath the last famous city of flesh,
where all things that breaths now
shall one day lie so lonely unknown
as toddler as i, two decades ago
calling baby a babylon
when tears of fears is weaker than your stare

and you were so beautiful in death
wearing the last garment of man
with a gracious smile
pausing unfixed for their mimicking lament
inside that ageless bed that embrace thy stinks
a grotesque of death
with wool coverd nose
ending the threat of breath.

And i remembered you today
when i called you mama!
Wake up! Wake up! And sing for me again
that tortoise song i love by heart
but like a gawping deafening stone
you were so mute and still
thinking of blissful bitter sleep
until those eyes you dropped on bed
were so lifeless and pale.

A shadow of weeping widow
covering cot of her tender kids
along the life prison that brags
where scorpions and snakes
have their stinging trap
an epitome of hope
for all eyes that frails
submitting willingly to dust
when sickening sleep she slept
paved way for her dancing death

Abolaji! Abolaji! ! Abolaji! ! !
Arije la bo oja
the warrior from the market close
bringing home peace and food
when famine of thirst
do persist inside thy helpless dates.
O! Sleep, sleep gently my beautiful grand mother
until we meet to part no further

when death and grave shall become our slaves
Goodnight mama and rest in peace.