Death happens to us all:
Those who mourn the fall
And those who don't at all.
When death calls
We all recall
The laughters, pains and moments of awe
We shared and all
We mourn a day
We cannot say
But sure as day
Lays in wait for us and they

'Oku nsukun oku'
If the mourning is for ourselves
Make death not proud.
Make the kerchief the shroud
And make your merry long and loud.