There is a gathering

A happy gathering of mockers

A happy gathering of the affluent

Under the bright moon with the soft flattering air.

In their midst is a borne fire

Covered with wires holding hands and embracing the heat.

On this struggling wire lies the meat praying to be free of pain.

The meat wails as it is being turned snaked on the rods of words

Words that walked out the mouths of the gods

The gods of its kind

The gods who are mere mortals

The gods made by its kind

The gods gathered, watching, laughing and waiting

To devour their prey in mock horror

In big clothes bought by deeds that deserve this fire

The meat bleeds of oil that increases the sharpness of its cook

The meat bleeds of years of hard work that drains into the pockets of the gathered

The meat bleeds of the sin- turned- righteous.

Maybe, just maybe, the meat wishes to have joined

In the barbarity which when covered in blood, power, honour and lordly handshakes

Puts one on the peak of affluence

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014.

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s