Chaos boils like hot water
In the highest place of the land
Can it melt its saucepan
To help create another in good shape?
I think not
Given the fact that
Here is here
And choas boils to cool
Never to ever rise in heat
Ah! Kwa kwa kwa kwa, beaky chirps
This fire which fans this heat
Under the coalpot of foul play
With the charcoal of corruption
And the match of disappointment
Being fanned by the fan of opposition
Will it die too soon?
Will it burn to ashes together with its heat?
Or be killed by its heating water?
I am curious
Like a passing wind
I know this is an issue in travel
By a fast plane
Or a trotro
Whatever the means
Eyes of mine watch
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016