I stand in the rain to see
What shocks may come
What spectres may, passing, be framed on these plates
What whispers in squall may tell
What gives wronged swordsmen such skill
What makes me, blade aloft to stir the sky, bait the
truth to guard the house.

Remember me fondly.

© Tolu Oloruntoba
10.25 am, June 4, 2014