You who drive the one eyed horse,
knock not on the heaven’s door,
wear not the mask of demise,
hear not the tune of passing,
for fiery flames, await the snubbing ears.
Is that not what the preacher says?
I know how it feels
to trample upon the fleet lanes,
but the road is ugly red,
though you see brown and black.
It is a vale of pain. Beware!
Spare us some moment of tears
And sweet-sour munching of akara balls
Do not rouse the ocular rains,
for a tragic youth that could have been great.
For that is all we’ll do when you are gone,
on that journey of no return.
Okada Rider, beware!