Serenity in the company of myself
but standing discombobulated by
the mystifying cause of death as
I lay me down to sleep.
Thou knowest not what becomes of him in the sleep,
Living every day likened to thy last hour but sleep at
noon fall hoping to arise by sunrise.
May I soundly wake to the interfering sun every
morning with my pen and love by my side.
May thou find mercy in the sight of the
angel of death to wake in life.
It is written that all creatures must one day die,
I wish so but until the sons and daughters of
my successful offsprings,
That I may live to die aged pass the golden mark,
To hold my pen, to love my friend, to watch my offsprings
bloom like roses and age like wine.
These supplications thou makest,
thou giver of eternal life.
Barbara Joan Ifechigha
©heart of the ink
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