Remains Poem by Adeosun Olamide

If our love dies young
Or is wounded by time,
And my smooth is broken by age
When you, tired of loving it,
Do as we, to rusty chalices,
Or weary of my bosoms decay
Which as my beauty should, do
-When as my beauty should,
Your love declines and wane,
And your affection, deceased is cold,
Devoured by another's memory,
Devoured by a failing memory,
That has no call of my boundless duties,
Be glad, upon the blindness I may then suffer,
For I shall have put my gaze upon the darkness
And buried myself in the love I have had