When the ink spitting words
Ceases to vomit,
When the mind potraying poetry
No longer flourishes,
When the hand writing my story
No longer flexes
When my heart expressing poetry
ceases to have feelings,
When my love for poetry
Ceases to exist
When death wins over my soul
After the soil has ravaged my soul,
You shall raise the poetic flag high..

After the solemn bell rings,
my soul vanishing into the dust....
You shall shed your tears no more,
Rather you will tell the world
Once a man named Poetry existed...
If you shall read between the lines
Rember too the the hand which inked them.
For l do not write to be a
'Great Poet'
Neither do l ink to be famous
I write so as to remain in your memories when lm gone.
After l die, always remember my love for poetry and you you brethrens...
Remember l loved you all