The fog is my alcohol,

stooping like injury,

staggering after every fall

in a venus fly trap do I sleep,

a burnt-out firefly,

whose light was maimed

by verbal spears

The fog is my alcohol,

my mind clogged with hurricanes,

and a tempest writes,

the novel of confusion

upon my scalp

The fog is my alcohol,

dizziness is famous

in my staggering trend

the fog is my alcohol,

I booze, and trail

and my bravery stammers

as black becomes

white and white

turns to black

The fog is alcohol;

my visions are blind

to imperfection unseen,

I can even hear

the howl of self- detonation

that echoes

in my life.

By Kakraba Afful

My lips are consciously

sealed with gentility,

as fate blesses me

Truly, I do abase my esteem

and accept all my flaws

with duty

and attempt to upgrade

myself and refuse

to claim mental disunity

Yes, apparently

my sagacious silence

pays a ransom to

pride, a kidnapper

and its hoarseness

and its harshness

are abashed,

from barking lion

to stammering stallion

and with the might of purity

my heart shall be tamed

by this joy,

that everyone is royal,

a king or queen

that sits on the throne of existence

Everyone is important,

unique,

shines like a golden trophy,

we are all champions!

By Kakraba Afful

As a smile is your armour;

a blissful base of security

and the handshake code

your companion's breastplate

there shall be a little, mighty

thorn in your hearts

As you laugh together

in the dynasty of unity,

blessed by harmony

there shall be a darkness,

that can dim your sanctities

Each of you, stop white bullets,

with the white silence

in the name of union,

you, out of love,

shall hold these cracks

to prevent the earthquake

But it is destined to shake

his or her life one day,

so if true friendship

must be unfurled,

the mirror shouldn't be hidden,

let the earthquake roar

so that he or she may be unshakeable,

let the bullets flow

that he may be bulletproof

and overall

be a friend to the truth.

By Kakraba Afful

welcome to the morge

where the light of redemption dims,

and a titanic nation

that sinks daily

in the quicksand of silent crime

The land is dead,

but righteousness is dehumanized

by a financial leprosy,

delightful to the wealthy,

transforming the unfortunate

into a clustomy

The corpse of countries

is buried with the dismal

epitaph known as ignorance,

as it was invaded by

financial vampires,

which silently turn it

from Eden to a desert of hopelessness

and mediocrity

is the constant language spoken

The sun, murders coolness

with economic scorches,

even harmattan is a consolation

in this case,

as corruption is the maggot

seen swimming in

the corpse of nations.

By Kakraba Afful