THE JOURNAL VOLUME 3.
Those black coated ghouls could not gather around because six feet is far away,
The hour of the dragon has come,
I must gild my journal with gold, but the damsel in my sight is so stunning.
To get drunk with women or to get drunk with dream,
I’m still contemplating that;
This journal will stay glue to my mind for the sake of its words,
Not gibberish words but word of light that shines like a polished onyx.
Flowers don’t stay red forever neither do power last eternal so stay with your journal,
Take gingham from it and mould it with precious emeralds,
Let lineage see it, for I have lived by it and I’m up here.
I’m flying higher like a buckbeak,
Twill knack you in stopping those wish and press into it- that glorious future.
O ye watch of my books,
Gird my journal in your heart, let it crack your soul like a tortoise back,
You won’t lose, by it we ‘re refined,
We found the right lane and joined the angelic train.
- AYOOLA MOFIFOLUWA
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