Category: Uncategorized

Before I say no more,
Before I close this door,
Let me speak of love’s soft gleam,
And how it turned into a dream.

Once, your words were honey sweet,
Soft whispers in the night we’d meet.
But time has drawn a quiet line,
Where silence blooms, and hearts decline.

I remember when our eyes would dance,
In rhythms of a sweet romance.
But now the music fades away,
In the shadows where our feelings lay.

Before I say no more, my dear,
Let me make it crystal clear:
Love should be a place to grow,
Not a garden overrun with woe.

I wanted us to stand as one,
Through rain and shine, through night and sun.
But now, I am tired of asking why,
Of wondering when love passed us by.

Before I say no more, I will try,
To mend the broken wings that fly.
But if my efforts fall to the floor,
I will close this chapter, and say no more.

Hear me now, while there is still time,
Before the echoes lose their chime.
For in this space of hurt and pain,
We choose if love can rise again.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2024

There is a carnival at the graveyard tonight,
Yet only a beep breaks the silent night.
The moon plays hide-and-seek up high,
While stars pretend to sleep in the sky.

A coffin yawns with wooden jaws stretched wide,
“Who knew eternal rest could be this spry?” it sighed.

The skeletons, in their bony gala attire,
Dance a jig on tombstones, their movements quite inspired.
“Bone-tired we may be, but our spirits never tire,”
Said one, while playing ribs like a xylophone choir.

The ghost of Old Man Grim, with his scythe so gleaming bright,
Spun fables of yore, in a spectral kind of light.
“Reaping’s a grim job, but somebody’s gotta do it,”
He quipped, while his hollow eyes danced with ghostly wit.

A bat in a top hat, dapper and so grand,
Led an orchestra of owls, the best in all the land.
“Music to die for!” he declared with pride,
As their notes hung in the air, like souls yet untried.

The night wore on, with its macabre glee,
Even the weeping willows chuckled silently.
“Life’s a grave matter,” they rustled with delight,
“But death, oh death, brings a party every night!”

Oh! The beauty of the darkness carnival, where humor finds its place,
Death takes a bow, with a skeletal grace.
For even in the shadow’s grip, a laugh can be found,
When we become eternal masquerades, and we are all underground.

What a night!

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2024

I know you are feeling tense,
Life’s circumstances have you fenced,
Your voice seems to have lost its audience,
And inconvenience becomes your constant presence.

I know you have lost a sense of independence,
Daily, interference challenges your resilience,
The deity of omniscience, once so vibrant,
Now dwells in profound silence.

I know you battle against pestilence,
Where internal gas brings flatulence,
Doctors warn of its recurrence,
Threatening your very existence.

I know you yearn for affluence,
Yet even pence is in absence,
Your patience has outrun its sense,
Please resist any thoughts of violence.

I know your desires’ persistence,
But do not let them lead you to imprudence,
Guard your emotional intelligence,
For it might fade away under insistence.

I know the pressures that immense,
Think through each thought’s consequence,
In sequence, they may come, hence,
Boost your confidence and say yes to life.

Hold back on any impulsive threat…

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2024

This is my captive heart’s silent plea,
Enchanted by your mystery.
Your laughter, music to my ear,
A distant star, my guiding sphere.

I long to speak, my feelings pour,
But words are lost, forevermore.
A shadow’s role, I am forced to play,
While yearning for the light of day.

Your every glance, a stolen art,
Ignites a flame within my heart.
A prisoner of hope and fear,
As silent days and nights appear.

A prisoner of hope’s sweet pain,
A constant strain, a heart in chain.
In dreams, our souls entwined as one,
But waking finds me lost and undone.

With every glance, my spirit’s stirred,
A secret love, a fragile word.
Oh, to confess, to set my heart free,
But fear’s cold hand holds captive me.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2024

No laughter rings, just heavy air,
Thick with dust, a scent of despair.
Saints Academy, a shattered frame,
Where echoes whisper children’s names.

“Wait,” they say, but wait for what?
A miracle? My heart feels taut.
Four precious lights, snuffed out too soon,
Can a mother’s love outshine this moon?

The ground convulses, mimics my plea,
Grief’s crushing weight, a drowning sea.
Will the sun pierce through this endless night?
Can these broken pieces find the light?

Memories dance, like phantoms fly,
Of playful smiles and reaching high.
Now cold and stark, this concrete tomb,
Where once my children found their room.

Before you tell me time will mend,
Think twice. My four and more, trapped without end.
Stars stolen, leaving only night,
This waiting holds no shred of light.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

NB: Our heart goes out to the trapped students of Saint Academy, Jos, Nigeria. Keep breathing, help is on the way

In Jos, where laughter used to ring,
A hush descends, a heavy wing.
Saints Academy, a vibrant hive,
Now stands in silence, barely alive.

Seventeen vibrant flames, extinguished fast,
Crushed beneath the weight of the past.
But through the cracks, a fragile shoot,
A whisper of hope, takes tender root.

Where dreams were planted, a seed now sleeps,
Though hearts are heavy, where sorrow weeps.
The coming dawn, a golden ray,
Will chase the night and lead the way.

Each soul departed, a firefly’s gleam,
Their memory glows, a radiant stream.
A guiding light, their legacy burns,
In quiet strength, their spirit yearns.

We raise our voices, a mournful choir,
A promise of healing, a heart’s desire.
To lift the broken, mend what’s torn,
A chance to rise, though hope seems worn.

We weep, but see the embers flare,
A flicker of light, a silent prayer.
Each tear, a seed for a brighter day,
We’ll bridge the darkness, find a way.

Though Jos may wear a cloak of despair,
Resilience rises, a strength we share.
The stars may hide, but their light remains,
And in our dreams, hope still sustains.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

NB: Saint Academy, Jos, may you find strength in these trying times.