From the cradle to the grave
Between, stampeding for survival
To keep the being alive, but the second
Minute and day ring like the bell
When he will be no more.
When he will bed with his father's for good
When it will seem like a dream
But then, he will be gone . . . no more.
When some agitating minds will flow
Boundless rhytorics that blow the mind.
Laid in the casket with rhythms that
Play to the earless ear.
The world brains his deeds
Some see the fine flower
Others the withered flower
Tributes of far-flung attributes in
Repeatitive synchronism rent the air
Elevating the dead to a saint.
Assurances
To stand with
To stand by
To stand around the family are laid like dust.
But then, he will be no more
Gone to the infinite journey of life.

The poem, WHEN HE DIES, was written by ATONYESIA DIMIEARI-PETERSIDE on 7th May, 1988 from his collection: SHADOWS OF OUR TIME
© Atonyesia