we only know how to define death:
sadness. black dress.
plaintive hymn of appreciation
on a sunday morning. to god be the glory.
a mud running on the face.
a hanging image, like a chain of web —
on the corner, adjacent the mirror of the room.
say the dead lives on,
say the dead never die.
say a sorrow is running
like a river. like a tiny thing.
a sorrow so tiny, that makes you
forget how ugly you look when you cry.
say death is the only hope of man,
that life is for memories
of our dead.
Akinwale Peace Akindayo