By Christian Elugbemi

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Your priceless crown upon the crowns
Seeking you among the grey is fruitless

Habitually, days should speak and years should teach,
But multitude of years do apprehend the skull
And years make puerile the ancients
Indeed, stolen water is sweet,
But your word is sweeter than honeycomb
Searching you in six-three-three-four
There, miniature of you is found

Recitation can never be compared to your visitation
Where is your path that leads to life?
Where is your bread that prospers souls?
Where is your wine?