Grave Is A Final Home Poem by Bello Hamisu Ida

Huge currency, splashy cars and beautiful building,
Belly, pretty young lady, all that world re-electing,
Decease handy enemy adjacent friend lug you now,
Next morrow gaze your corps that clutch sole bow.
The bow and arrow is your doom when you’re alive
The tune inside your grave, worms dance their jive.
The group of Worms that meld from your flesh,
The worms eat your meat, they enjoy and refresh
Skeleton and soul hang about in the final home,
Skeleton stay lots of eon above epoch of Rome.
Sole bow and arrow shot you to beautiful world
World of gentle, you rally on your dream-world.
Barely your good-deed helps to care for the soul
Those worldly materials stay into the mortal hell.