The cricket sang the starlight
Raleigh in his prison bay,
Wrote his words on dim light
And was killed the next day.
What would be my swam song?
I felt the twang of the trigger
That holed through Lincoln's head,
And the drops of red in the theatre,
At Ford when the killer fled.
Where will I meet my grave?
I thought of the hemlock
That choked Socrates to grave,
With a heart strong as rock,
I wept but no tear can save.
Who will weep for my sake?
It came back like yester-night
When Ibikunle silently slept
To heaven with holy myth
A puritan heart he kept.
When will mine come to pass?
While all these men sleep foreva
Their virtues and grace within their hold,
And me synonymously clever
Valour and candour all within my fold.
One day, shall I be remember'd like this.
Joseph Oladehinde Ibikunle
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/trance-9/
