When hearts meet fears and flee
And groans turn to songs as dirges
Where brides must sing of joy –
When indigo streaks our faces –
***
When stolen voices become
Serial callers with borrowed
Phrases,
Where old plasters cover the wounds
Where real heroes fall
Then new martyrs rise to build
Our history again
***
Turning back clayfeet in quicksand
Straddling blue ocean and brown earth
When babies turn to hard bones
And thorns,
When the hour hand stands still
And stuck In soldiers’ horns
When new fears rise against the Ashes of hope
Then martyrs rise to build
Our history again
***
Books and boots stashed against
The uneven tide
New modes become bridges of time
When gardens brown from stunted Growth,
When stashed cash melts where it
Throws,
When seeds sprout from parables
Where no eggs break,
Then martyrs rise to build
Our history again
Kwasi Gyan-Apenteng
Mum Cee 