Abstract
Death, captured in a box suspended in mid-air slowly ascending to land on a rock too far to see. The phantom is bold killing the scion of creativity and talent.
A Fallen Branch None of us can determine the frequency of death and predict the timing of its occurrence. You and I are slaves to the monster. Almighty death snatched away our precious jewel. Ikú d’oró , iku ́ ́ṣe ̀ka. The death that cut Pius in his ̀ prime stings with sorrow. An irreplaceable man has gone. A silence descended upon me, a pregnant silence. I could not even recover to write this tribute, doing so only after request by friends and his family members. The sorrow is difficult to bear. The pain refuses to leave.
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