I pour this libation
From my free but poor calabash
Which knows hunger as a happy sport
And not an opposing wrestler
To let dreams fall into sleep of all
To see fierce and hunting war
In chase of ones whose preferences
Became their bait of horrid fate
I pour this libation from my fearful calabash
Which loves to retain every drop it hosts
To wet the lips of mouths of thirsty gods
To help them consult oracles of miracles
To invoke the slap of reality
To wake us from slumber of sluggishness
Exporting us to the heaven gates of hard work
We pour our all on peace preaching
When others seek to inject the sun
To see its veins
To chase hard in hells of war
All “tintintinintis” who plan to be all the war
In loses they abhor
Nananom ei nsa!
To let money hunters in national-cake- chase
Lose interest, race or lives
To rid our world of failures unborn
Any “takrawogyamu”must be burnt by hell’s hell fires
Fuelled by Odomankoma’s “faango”
All brown snakes in dust must be poisoned by the heat
Which hides their dubious frames!
All water snakes acting like water lilies
Must be chopped on boards of “we thought before you”
Nananom nsa for safety!
Nsa for discernment!
Nsa for all right choices!
Nsa to entrench our lasting peace!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Nov. 20, 2016