In the midst of storm

The sweet breeze blankets from dust

The eyes must take form

And close to shield from the storm

Who but God gives reflexes?


The arms of the cold

Bites when it catches the lone

But they pretend to hold

When they see others and mourn

Who but God gives pretences?


I shall bravely live

I shall mercifully give

I shall guard and keep

And when the onions of life

Burn deep my eyes I shall strive


None would feel the heat

But me, none would have cold feet,

 But me, hoard regret?

None but me when the earth calls

This is my resolution

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. :)

11 replies on “I AND I (STYLISH TANKA)”

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