Not every bee around honey is its producer
Some look to steal, acting among
Not every raised hand is for praise
Some are up to act as trap cues
I can see the mischievous fans
Hiding murderous intentions in fanning
While parcelling love with smiling
Oh you fake fans!
You can try all you can
But the air to kill my fire resides not in your fans!
II
If my fire were yours to take out
Your sweats wouldn’t need to shout out
Your wrists wouldn’t need to think bouts
Your eyes wouldn’t cry to red out
Your smile wouldn’t brighten to crack out
Your strength wouldn’t rebel to die out
Say what you may
Eyes of your dark record your struggles
III
It is laughable you know
Strong trees have connived with bored air
To get this fire out and failed
Storms have flirted with seas
To get this fire out but failed
Typhoons have acted foxes to try their luck but miserably failed
Tsunamis have broken seas, killed many important fishes
To get this fire out but oh so failed
Do you think your common fan can out
What its heavenly superiors failed to?
My chuckle hides in sympathy for your pain
Oh I hope frustration tears not the veins of your sanity
In my chase
IV
When I fall looking at you, it is out of my charity
To see you at least feel better
But these bones malleably made will never die in a fall
Not a fall from your push
So fan a whistle with killer rumours
Fan little fires in dry grasses under my care
Try to block my angelic air strengthening my fires
And see if your fan catches not fire
To lynch you out
V
I am fire only the Lighter can quench
In own day and time
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 15, 2019
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