They sit on the fury of the gods
And fan them to snooze
Everyone is onboard this sin against the gods
Some watch as some touch
The symbolic tails of the chained seer
To hide their sins under its fur
Some sip from the calabash of hatred
Others eat from the earthenware of deceit
While others plant the seeds of pain
Some kill the souls of the pious
Others steal from the banks of the poor
While others drink the blood of their dead ancestors
Some drain the sweat of the innocent
Some call for the lazy mentality
As some swear their fake innocence amidst the storms of chaos
What will happen when the gods finally wake?
Who will be left? Who will be taken?
Who will spared? Whose head will be on the chopper?
The winds which help in the sleeping dosage
Will connive with the storms to get us
And we’ll cave in because of their anger
We all know the anger of the gods have no ears,
No conscience and no sympathy
So let’s keep fanning hoping our hands will never be tired.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014