It was a song she sung
One she sung that so stung
And freed blood that turned dung
Manuring pain which bitterness sprung
Oh I curse her tongue
II
I sought for the strong
But clung on straw which was not strong
And water longed but fire belonged
I swept but wept and kept the swept
Which the chaos did leave
III
She claimed an ancestor did call
For our chaos to turn into a ball
Thrown into a wall and make us dull
For a traveller did make one fall
One of our blood who stood so tall
Composing our song which stung
And had a wire which kept us in
Within the cycle of pain in matrimony
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016
(Photo Credit: Google pics)
