Mides Note Poem by Adeosun Olamide

Gently the brook that babbled by did in stillness
brand,
Daffodils tossed by the genteel breeze blemishes
witheringly bent,
Silence and fear cuddled, raped and caressed the
angered land,
And all that was heard were whispers of pule
without lament.

Agog by the knell of death tinkles ache,
The cluttering chains that smother existence
perceived,
Yet in shackles of dis enthrallment I be
Blighted by vanquish of vanities achieved.

Tell soil not to rejoice for nutrient of bodies received in plight,
Nor be rapture in joy of not been trampled upon by playing kids,
For ravished is it by the beautiful, the strong and the
might,
And yet in pestilence it has plagued its lids.

For it was so that death hung at the door of the
palace and in the shades of the shrine,
And not did it absent self from the deserted street of
the cathedral vine.