The sun began to scorch
as I longed to behold my beloved.
I cried out various names,
yet I yelled to no avail.
Slowly my steps grew cowardly,
as I rescinded to the park,
but the trees appeared scary,
bearing on them, tiny birds
that whistled a dirge.
Suddenly I looked up,
and the sky glowed bright:
like an arrow it struck my heart,
the trumpet cried
and I was left behind.
Written by Bayo Komolafe
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