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POETRY

​IF I KNEW I WOULD BURY MY SEED


If I knew I would bury my seed

And feel the rot which my happiness bought

And rock the cot which cries of cold

I wouldn’t have bothered in its plantation


II

If I knew the ways of death

And of its throat

Which swallowed more than pythons

In a realm where my eyes can’t reach

I wouldn’t have formed for it a pet

Which it would take from my Love’s nest


III

I know I have no power to make

I know I have no power to break

I know I have no power to take

But why does my heart so shake?


IV

Call death to my pain’s court!

Call death to my sorrow’s fort!

Call death to my darkness ring

To show a face which hosts the mouth

To show the mouth which hosts the tongue

That took my seed without a note

So I can touch the soul of my soul

So I can touch the heel of my myth

To be an addition or an exchange deal

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 28, 2017

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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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