The wisp has gone astray,
so what are we to do?
I saw you walk away,
streaking lights of red and blue,

as you walked into the south,
halting steps burdened your shoulders.
Told me your light had gone out,
and your flame began to smoulder.

Ah, my joy. My muse. My little heart,
in silence you do wander.
Come back, and soothe me with your art.
Your absence has been squandered.

Like fireflies unto my eyes,
you blessed me with your gaze.
But like the blade which then destroys,
you left me in your future days.

I know I'll always wander east,
and think of your depart.
But if you should ever read this... please...
You're his sixth turning of the heart.

Ezekiel Onoja Udedojo.