For Oluwafunmilayo Ojeniyi

Is it not from
the blood of a bleeding
soul the balm is found?

Know you not to be a jar of Gilead's balm
thou must be cracked?
The breath to the dying
The shoulders for the weeping
The hope to the sighing
The truth to the one caught in the web of lies.

How long will you
hide your story-
even this bandage
that is deeply crimson?

O that tears will
not veil your eyes
my beloved!

- Martins Deep

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