I WANT TO SLEEP
Fatigue gripped my soul sore,
And a heavy burden my heart bore.
No more turned to hope’s allure,
Rather to my maker, I’ll stand before.
I want to sleep the sleep of the dead.
To lay my head on my grave-bed.
So that of life’s troubles I’ll be rid,
And to the world, farewell I’ll bid.
I want to sleep the sleep of my ancestors,
Like they did in days of yore.
Ere the claws of painful death catch me unaware,
And my strength is opened to wear.
I want to tread the path ghosts once trod,
With a gallop and not a trot.
Swiftly and freely I’ll then fly,
Gently with wings, my soul will flutter by.
I want to go to a land of rest,
Where I’ll have the very best.
To rid myself of this broken heart,
Behold! Death itself in the very act.
Home I go!
Free from every load.
To that never never land,
Where they have gold as sand.
Mojisola Josephine Kuwadinu
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