2019-06-14T22:50:34+01:00By |Poetry|0 Comments

I am the harbinger of sorrow
I prepare you not for tomorrow
If you could, more life would you borrow
But alas, the boat of life, away I row

You toil and toil to the best of your ability
You slave and slave with all might and capability
You claim and believe invincibility
But alas, your steps is dogged by susceptibility

You build mansions grenades cannot destroy
Forever, do you hope to enjoy
You obsess over royalty like Helen of Troy
But alas, your life to me is a mere toy

I purge you from the face of the earth
And end your claims to wealth
With open arms, do you welcome my rival: Birth
But alas, I am just a messenger with the name: Death

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About the Author:

I am Ginika, from a family of three girls and I am the middle child. I am a proud graduate of European Studies (French & German) from UI, Ibadan. I read lots of books and trust me there are no bad books, except you mean poorly written ones. Call me a Dan Brown Fanatic, still you will catch me getting lost in the feminist world of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

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