Crying whelms�
The fragrance of death spread
World without end when shall it be.
The fragrance of death spread
World without end when shall it be.
The living watch with thoughts that travel
Route for all, a journey we all most partake
Who could change the will?
Dancers dance, sounds re-echo,
Refreshment spread, songs sang,
Prayer offered but the deed has been done.
The owner has taken it own
Who could query Him?
For that which was joint together
The hand of death has stolen away.
Who bears the pain?
Who will comfort the bereaved?
Same who taketh shall be their comforter
For life without end is like a sleep into oblivion.
�Nsikak Andrew, 26th January, 2008 & 4th March, 2008