' ROSE OF DEATH'

Waiting in the wings,
dying till the bird sings,
succeeding dying again today till death rings.

Life kills time to stop any  wrong,
tumbling and matching to sit on others is dung,
who owns your chief song?
I want to be plain but let death be rung.

Death is the friend of life,
Death hawks the steeple of life,
Every life closely holds a knife,
this knife is the stab of death.
Oh life, rose of death.

Ajakaye Rashidat Olamidayo.

This piece tells its readers that death's  first image of visiting man is life. As one lives, life feeds death. Death watches us every time we think we have succeeded cheating it for life is its shadow.