From The Forlorn In Heaven Boulevard Poem by Adeosun Olamide

What grieves your countenance thus-
O ye-
O ye, Martyr of Christ
What spur this wailing I beg-
O what-
O ye, Martyr of Christ
Here is bliss
And all your needings
What do you will?
I prithee- O ye Martyr of Christ
Whence this lachrymose?
Why your robe- so rent
And light yours so is muted in pale
Tell me- O ye Martyr of Christ-?

Tis my daughter, she burns down in hell-
She calls on her mummy-
O ye Mary of Christ
How say me to dance when be so-
She suffers- and twirls there in fire
In flames- she swaying long
O ye Mary of Christ-
Do you hear so her wails,
And feel torment hanging in
My Mary of Christ-
Thus twinge in heart that ye hold
Feel it so- Mother Christ of ours!
Tis my daughter, she burns down-
Up there in hell- O ye Mary of Christ
I was given- to Christ causes so
So taken- it took, it dragged me from her
She grew away- whilst mis-sioned about
And knew street- when claim Martyr state
O ye, Mother Christ ours-
Tell me how- that here can be thrill?

Why quietness, counsel me Mother
Thou know- thy way here
You are the mother of Christ-
Give a word Christ ears-
Lend me thy influence at least-
I want join there in hell-
To hold her in wailing-
And bequeath mothers hug
Or O ye, Mary of Christ
Tell me so-
How am I to
While she tides on in pain?


O ye Martyr My Christ-
Do eat first-
I see thee- hear thee beyond say
And shall seek pardon for ye O Martyr
Maybe- He grant us-
And shone compassion

O ye Mary, Mary of Christ
Where art ye so long!
Is it- you hid from me so?
Why this betray you hand-
What this pearl
This joy around about! ?
How so Christ pay me so-
Seen my daughter?
She burns so in hell-
And this prison-Ye call paradise
Please, Father let me heed-
The agony-shall hug twice now
Let me to dwell with daughter
In hell where she calls!