On My Dying Day Poem by Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo

The trees will waver in the wind
People will stand within the shadows
In the darkness behind
And in them will raise sorrowful solos
The seeds will cease to sprout
The sun will rise south
Men and children will lie on open streets
Women will wail for my return
My corpse shall no man deem fit to carry
And so loud shall be their long silence
People shall offer to die in my sake
But no one can hold back from exit
How will you leave us?
How do we face it without you?
I know that all this shall happen
On my dying day