After being wooed
She soon swooned
Opening up for a palpable wound
Then her raised eyes lowered
Her pride got showered
And washed into the mud
The hidden flower in the bud
That all sought
Appeared briefly to greet her lord
Taking a toll she could not afford
All against her own accord
Until her evening dawned
Her sun setting amidst rebellion
But all that were seen were fading rays
Which danced to the tune of its death
Sad, her rise and fall
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

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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