A fruit that will ripe and shed someday
Like a yellow leave in the belly of Autumn,
Let it prepare itself for the long fall.
A bird that will soar across the Mississippi
From its start to its end,
Let it prepare itself for the eternal flight.
A wig that will live and die someday
Like a common cockroach in my cupboard,
Let it prepare its grave from the first day of its life.
With the passing remnants of my breath,
I took a quizzical look at my life and the law.
In the days of my physico-mental prowess
I was the law as it is,
Still I was the law as it ought to be.
I had the balls of law in my fisted hands:
The song I sang was the law
The tune I played was the law
The language I chose must be law’s.
The rhythms I played were laws.
Ask me how many times I raped Themis,
Of her ways, her sways and her days
And I will say I have lost counts.
For me to strike an opponent from behind,
Themis must remove her blindfold at my will.
For me to hijack the course of justice at pleasure,
Themis must drop the scales
And just wield the sword without a measure.
I was the Sango of the legal profession,
The Thor at the centre of the Bar
The Zeus to other gods at the Inner Bar
The Irumole that threw the Bench off balance
The Chief Intimidator to legal under-growths
The rewriter of legal verses and stanzas
The composer of the anthem for the profession.
Now…
Age and the forthcoming compulsory wage
Have enclosed me in an eternal cage.
With the passing remnants of my breath
And my foot in the grave,
I wish I could relive and amend my sour ways
And the poisonous infections of my sways
And the contagious impositions of my days
Till a light from above will blossom my bays.
If Providence will not answer my calls
And the wages of my sin shall be death,
Then let my epitaph reads as thus:
‘He sold his soul and modesty to the Devil
He won and ruled the legal battle for long
But when he planned to retire and be civil
The Devil put a nail across his tongue’
A fruit that will ripe and shed someday
Like a yellow leave in the belly of Autumn,
Let it prepare itself for the long fall.
A bird that will soar across the Mississippi
From its start to its very end,
Let it prepare itself for the eternal flight.
A wig that will live and die someday
Like a common cockroach in my cupboard,
Let it prepare its grave from the first day of its life.
—Bolaji Ramos, Esq.
Send your press release/articles to: info@dnlpartners.com ,Follow us on Twitter at @dnlpartners and Facebook at Facebook.com/Dnl-partners
© Copyright DNL Legal & Style 2017.
This piece may only be copied on the condition that DNL Legal & Style is duly acknowledged in this manner: “Source: DNL Legal & Style. View the original piece on: (insert Hyperlink)