Our shrill cry turns the front cover
As we squeeze through folds of flesh
Our own script twines and traces us
As we play on the sands of time
With the pedantry of a seasoned scribe
Ah, the minutest details count
Every prayer in the closet
Every wish in the heart
Every wink in the dark
Every tear in the rain
Yet it follows hot on our heels
Tracking our moves and thoughts
For a record of things must be kept
A secret for all ears
And then, time stands still
The pen drips its last
The cover dons its seal
As a tired breath moans past
But the rusty book of life stays
Until the end of days
For then it shall squeal
Being the only bill
When all else are ears
Izu,
+2348034462772.
Izuk_norbert@yahoo.com
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW
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