WHEN MY TIME COMES!!! GLADYS MBILLA WRITES.....

It doesn't matter if I'm ready
When my time comes.
It doesn't matter if I'm greedy
When my time comes.
HE is no respector of persons
Nor is he a listener to pitiful pardons.
He enters before knocking
And He takes without reckoning.

It doesn't matter if I'm big,
Big, or if I'm small.
It doesn't matter if I'm short,
Short,  or if I'm tall.
HE wears no watch nor is HE an observer of time.
HE flies and HE lands like a praying mantis,
And cares not if HIS sting tastes like lime,
Or if you think it is a crime,
It doesn't matter at what stage, if my time comes.

When my time comes,
It doesn't matter if I'm mature,
Mature, and it doesn't matter, if I'm premature,
It doesn't matter, no it doesn't,
When my time comes.
It will come when it will come,
It knows no bounds in age,
Nor does it matter at what stage.
It'll come like the wind,
No one knows where it comes from nor where it goes.

Sometimes, it comes like sunset at dawn,
And other times, like harvesting a field of ripe corn.
Sometimes it's beautiful like a cultivated lawn,
And other times like a mask of mournful scorn.
It doesn't matter if I'm revered
Or does it matter if I'm a servant,
It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter when my time comes.

HE is stiff-necked and he is bile-bellied.
HE visits when you least expect
And leaves when nothing is left to be perfected.
Like a river,  He carries away anything on its way,
Stealthily, sneakily Stealling souls so sorrowfully soon.
It doesn't really matter when my time comes.
Watch and be the best you can, oh my soul,
'Cause it doesn't really matter when my time comes.

It would no longer be my food carried in a basket,
But my body as food, buried in a casket.
You'd come with your roses woven into wreaths,
And that would only be my possesion, since i no longer got any wealth
When my time comes.

Many would come from far,
Far and wide, and many would also sleep at the bar.
You'd tell me how good i was,
And you'd tell me how beautiful i look smiling from a wall.
You'd call my name, but i can not answer,
You'd tell of how I've been good without number
When my time comes but it wouldn't matter any longer.
Just because it's, that my time has really come.

Written by:
Gladys Alasid Mbilla

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