Frustration, hate, questions
Tears, reminiscence, loss, grief?
Because the beckoner of the beckoned,
The player of the played,
The flame of the fire,
The manipulator of breaths and
The raw eater of the flesh
Played, flamed, manipulated and ate
The sire of company and happiness?
The sender of the sender
Who sends breathless humans
To be fed to the hungry earth
Will have no pity, no matter the gravity of sorrow
So wake, smile, laugh, dress up and finish your tasks,
Before he sets his eyes on the you
Who has her eyes on his past feast.
We all are feasts of doom
So much so that even those who have the pleasure of staying long
Sometimes pleads to be sent to the human abattoir.
So make merry and stop wasting the different hands of time
Whether young or old, the leaf is bound to be manure
Shield the sumptuous fruits that are promising
So you have no regrets when called
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia, (c) 2014.