MORTICIAN TALE

Here in this dreary room
I dress many souls to eternity…
Lifeless souls kissed by death…
Sparkling roses lose glamour at nightfall
But the bees produce its honey at death

These souls
They’re out there among the stars…
The end is fairer than the beginning
But sleep on brothers
I shall join you no soon

Why these caskets of pure gold and winsome diamonds?
These can’t water the soil
But can aid water the plants left behind by the household god’

I dress them – the lifeless souls of stranded beings
Who fell hoping
Tomorrow is not ours to give
I learn this, not from the fig tree, but of seeing and believing…

Let’s cover them with immaculate whites of purity
They’re immortals, now, always
Free from toils and stains
I envy them, though I hate long journeys

Oh, let me dress them!
They’re sages now – omniscient
Praised with songs and hymns
By the deeds they did in limited tenancy – short lived

Oh let me dress them
So that someday, reluctantly
I too may be dressed…

Written by: Abel Iseyen Ancientman
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

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