After launch upon launch with family and loved ones,
Friends embarked on a journey to the world of bottles.
We arrived a place where young gods showcase the talent of alcohol.
The bar attendants were canopied with intoxicated voices.
Demand of beers was written on every face.
Beer-decorated tables nodded at our presents,
And we joined the league of intoxicated gods.
Our order of bottles questioned the mathematical ability of the secretary.
Hennessey and Champagne gave us a standing ovation.
Madness of intellectual began-evidence of defeat by beers.
Mr. Poet was called and I wrote a thousand poems.
Law students, Medicine and Engineering were not exceptions.
No English grammar was not spoken and no knowledge was not explored.
Furious darkness suddenly announced her present.
Our Engine roared when we called, without knowledge of our drowns.
And on the highway, our friend become Stat-ham-the transporter,
And toyed with the speed-level of the baby Engine.
Our roar terrified the highway-lights and the traffic signs.
Black men of the highway, A.K.A Police have made way for us, the drown thought whispered.
We chanted, buzzed and roared like Sheriff Sirens.
Till a place where death and descendants had ambushed for us.
Alas! Our weeping Engine was crushed and its debris littered in the sky.
Our virgin faces received a handshake of a tarred road.
Weeping hills and battered valleys assumed my face,
With a gushing spring in the name of blood.
What about my brothers whose bones were picked from far distances?
I woke up and found wools clothing the irritating body.
If not the invisibly present of angel Gabriel,
How would my separated bones flutter in the laughing horror?
My brothers, I saw my death.
This is my story