Stood I, lone and haggard
Ashore a forlorn sea
Mooning over
To the tale of sad-love
The giants who marry their graves
And the sweet nectars
Which later turn to poison
For the conjugal bees
In their marital flowers
I’ve heard of miseries,
The moon that betrays
Her blissful grey-night
And the harmonious cord,
That becomes a wrestling ring
I’ve heard how,
The casualties of love
Become the able patients
In the hospital of divorce
Hotel-Men come to pay their bills
On this shore of shame
Stood I lone, soliloquizing
Like a mad man in Akure market
Who tells tales of madness
In a higher disorder
I am fully ripened
On this tree of age
Seeking a heart to reap me
Lord, I want to marry
Who will I marry?
The market of life
Is congested; beautiful women
But no wife to marry
There’re like marble graves
In them dwell stinking characters
On this green land
Throng the trees of men
They look fresh and lure
But they bear not
The fruit of a husband
Ugh! I cough, I sigh…
May I not to be a victim
Of such sad-love tale
Lord, I want to marry!
But who will I marry?
Written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
