for students of sesan ajayi.....

For Students of Sesan Ajayi.....

Dispersed voices of yesteryears
wear the crimson cloak of distant climes as nightmares...
and we see,
garbed tears and glares
not so much to mourn the embalmed minstrel
but to doubt if tomorrow will ever bring a dawn
and to doubt a December without the jingled bell

Wait...
what if these silent stampedes
become the ablution of rites
to peep and to dip
and to become the harbinger of muffled tidings
that will not resonate only once a year
like the jingled bell
but forever told like gallant tales