Ballad Of A Lost Soul | By Victory Ajaja - Olu Jameson Media

Ballad Of A Lost Soul | By Victory Ajaja

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Puff, my wick grown cold,
in a stream of silent waters.
I'm freezing over hell
down the board path I fell.
My feet are up in the air,
pouring down with rain.

It the lyrics of my ballad I play
with walks on a street of coal.
My print burned out
like the edge of my cigarette.
In it I swim, in a pool of my fears.
Hell's gate is near I feel it tear.

Where will I be except for lost.
I am in it theatre living a dream.
My lids sunken by the voices I hear,
tap dancing my way to haven.
But still my night gleams fair
in a shadow where I am not there

This is the price of fame
and fame is my game.
In it I stand one legged
in a crowd of living dead.
But it tiny spit will be wiped
and turned to a cloud of stardust.

© Victory Ajaja

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