In the comfort of the dark

With a gentle stream of light


In the sea of silence

With a perfect mind scenery


In the chaos which surrounds

With no ears but mouths at war


At fears stroke and pity’s mope

With emotions rushing up and down


In the perfect city of love

With smiles and happiness as company


After overstaying a welcome

And love kicking him out of its beautiful city


Living flowery

As it dawns on him the nearness of death’s claws


Immersed in the beautiful sounds

Of metals, voices and fingers


Entangled in life’s battles,

A poet’s cradle is a cradle stirred somewhere deep in the mind.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 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. :)

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