Gratia Poem by Chidiebube onye Okohia

Truly, truly, I wish ne'er to grow too old
Ne'er when I'm decrepit with eyes bulged
Nor mouth flapp'd and nose tugg'd
Ne'er when th' whimpering paddock's brandishing a gourd
Nor when th' brawn-hearts screaming to me 'WOE'
I ne'er want to live forever; only
In paradise's lap where age is for th' holy,
I want to die in th' ectasy of an aroused sleep.
My excrement must move not itself,
Because when it moves, I move not; I'm incapable
Or like mine faint hymns in lavish'd end; many will say probable
Or the little progenies lauding that they're able,
I'll be sober, with a rum, drinking by myself,
I need not Aurora's bedchamber, not gifts from sunken hearts
Not gluttonous nymphs, not helluva-borne carts
Alas! I'd be doltish to a fable-acclaimed lore
But grace, filling mine mind, 'tis how nous starts.