titilayo sunday (lagos)

When my heart beats no more
I hope to die for a believe i lived for
For i feel the shadow's depth
Pricking it's thorn upon my raw flesh
When my soul is laid to rest
I want to be known for the pen
I have solemnly worked for
To call for respect
In the years i have spent
Even if i walk no more on the road
I hope my work continues to grow
In the darkness of tiresomeness
I write this wholesome of preparedness
To sleep in peace of death as it nears