INDUCED HELL

Skies of the throne of Freejustice
Rain to ruins
Like ships draining their seas while at sea
At high fees
The waves that keep them afloat
Are divided into three

II
The blind waves
Which push like donkeys even in drought
The on-fence waves
Which would give their lives
Than lift fingers to right any wrong
And the opposing waves
With thoughts of ‘all ships are the same’
Which see all flaws
Rebel in stagnancy
Caring not when  tsunamis would strike

III
I had a dream
Not like that of Martin Luther King
A dream that the red broke into the gold
The gold lost its balance
And fell with its black star into the green
The green helplessly fell apart
Into the latrines of war

IV
I had a dream
Not like that of Barack Obama
Soldiering warriors stood still
Like robots on display
In pretence of obedience to their regulations
As the fires of corruption
Sped their ways through them
With their human fear giving the horrors
In their eyes away
In that same dream
The flood of division
Begged at the feet of destroying tsunamis
Pain was busy frying beings in their sorrow pans
As death’s plates overflew with meats
Of grasses who loved their divisional teams
Funny,  how the chaos discriminated not
Funny how the cries were in symphony

V
I had a dream
Not like Joseph’s
Because he was the redemption
I felt the hellish heat of regrets
Saw consciences holding powerful canes
And whipping heads which housed them
Feeling the fear of last days
Confessions falling into gutters of
“What is done is done, we are already in hell”

VI
Books laid on seas with arms wide open
Calling on eyes to see the hidden truths
Read the success paths left far behind
But even the fishermen fled the seas
As they drowned silently in floods of neglect

VII
I woke toasted by fear
With sweats of a thin escape
But what is a tiny voice among multitudes of voices
When all mouths talk at once
Deafening ears
Confusing eyes
As legs walk into traps of destruction
Even blessings of God need planning
To fit in
Making a nation strong can’t just be the words of prophecies
Boldness to defend calls for pain of ridicules
Who is ready to start the defense?
Even the anthem lies on the executioner’s table
All together in support of its murder
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) August 15, 2016.
Inspired by Mike Amon Kwafo’s painting;  Upheaval Africa
Painting by Mike Amon Kwafo