drowned quickly in his pine
all of his poison
hardened swiftly my stomach
all of my hands
got swollen and bland
all of his dye
painted quickly my eye
All of my dream
seemed all white and green
all of his doctrines
now more than fourteen
all that succeeded
never decay for centuries
all now are dead
the place we will end
All of my mind
is to wind up a martyr
Copyright 2011
***Busola Elegbede***
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