byFriends of Olawale


And we plan to mow

Today and tomorrow

For years we are yet to see

On land or on sea


We build in our minds

The life we want in the future

Not knowing whether we’d feature

Or not


We harrow the soil

In harrowing pains

Hoping to harvest its oil

What we shall call our gain


We give off hope

Like our own dope

Making others believe

Not knowing we’d leave


We sail through the storm

That we may stomp the yard

Moving to the rhythm of the sound

Forgetting our eventual cover; the sand


What shall we say to death?

With its blood stained sword

Of his final words


With love shared for all

Building his famed hall

To raise legends amongst us all

Only to hear of his fall


Heaven, rush no more

For we know you want us more

And we shall, at the appointed time


Oh Grave!

Shall we then cave in

And let our dreams be caged in

No! We shall live

And live well till you come


The lamp is out

But the light is in our heart

Olawale, fare thee well

Your voice is still here.






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