We are born for too much worries
Our bones made to carry too much sorrows
Some burdens are made for the soul
And others really not unnecessary

Fear is the jester of giants
The darkness that gathers in our hearts

Of all deep things that assails men
Death is the most intriguing

How sweet, how sweet
To know when we will die
To mourn at one's funeral before any other
And cast sands at one's coffin
But destiny often can not afford that luxury

The fear of death kills many
The inactivity of the grave haunts me!!

© Olatuja Oloyede