Epitaph
Just like two cardigans
We were the same colour
Sitted side by side each other
Though same colour
The difference was spotted clearly
I on this hand
Was poorly woven
And felt like a cardigan that warms
An orphan, while he on the other hand
Felt like a cardigan woven by
The finest crochet artist
Well crafted and worn only by kings.
Intriguing right?
But above all it was able to radiate from kings
And warm sad poor souls like mine
My Durojaiya
Even if we weren't meant to be
I'll tease fate that I've always wanted him to be the one
It wasn't the fact we shared the same
Pain that drew me to her
But it was her openess like fine seashell
Unlike me who wore different mask
For different occasions
Yet she was able to nurse me
Till I wore no mask again
I fell in love with that and all of her
Even her weird nature of
Colouring her dreads
According to her mood she also influenced
Me on how to address each emotion
And how to nurse myself with grace
She is Hamda
And I'll beat fate on an adventure to go forever.
