This quiet night is too pure,
And the envious one is about
To sow the seed of jubilation,
Evil has overtaking me,
And my love one is about to
Bleed the tears of contempt,

The struggle is real,
And the jealous one is about to coat
The motion portrait of euphoria,
Why was this price not accepted
Before my first moan?
This breathless peace cannot be the
Place where my heart calls home,

Oh life, spite my weightless star
Over the southern hyaline,
I cannot not believe that my inept
Name is about to ration the little
Palmwine with the prelate ancestors,

How long will my wife’s
Womb continue to yowl?
Fate could not even wait
For my fondness to breathe my sun,

Beat the overt drums of time
And give me a *** of warm water,
For my blank soul has no other
Value except endurance and rejection,

Blow the covert horn of endless time
And let me ride over dawn and dusk’
For my greatest traitor has come
To hint me of my beholder’s score,

My sacred cloud waves are now
Pregnant with dry rain of gold dust,
What have I done to
Wound my own ghost?

I have nothing more
To sacrifice except my morrow,
Alight my irrevocable paean at the
Potent door of my inescapable darkness
And let the Gods take possession and audit
My perfect price of ornate fragrance.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com