Open Means Open Means

Born to passion

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Take my hands,

so we do depart

from this forlorn world,

where all turns bitter and

foul by the extinction of the heart

 

Within me, a bright curiousity,

slender with understanding,

climbs a mystical walls,

and I hope yours does to,

look into my eyes

and there is truth to find,

a bed for laden passion,

where you mind

shall be astounded by a perfect lullaby

 

Take my hands,

so we depart,

from this melancholy land,

so our tears can turn to honey

and the moon moans

 

There is a painting of our hearts,

of a land somewhere supreme

where gold is spread over apples,

and we are deemed with a glory

foretold yonder

so,

 

Take my hands,

do not deny

the flame that burns your sadness

without doubt,

till you smile

the way you smile now

like an everlasting wilderness

beyond knowledge

 

Take my hands,

so we can be together

in paths divine,

for your soul is mine

and mine yours.

                                    By Kakraba Afful

Mighty amore

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I have found strength in this luminous fortress

where the stars never seize to shine

my heart rest in bravery

and soul knows no boundary

 

This encompassment,

is not sorcery

but magic which cannot be learn,

it is the fiction

that becomes real,

a bond as strong as valor

for which I cannot reject,

and losing my hold

my head keeps spinning

in merry dreams,

fine fantasy

and darkness fades away

 

I stare into the eyes of this fortress

and she breathes earnestly,

my heart enyeastens

like a dough of joy,

and my will

grows lofty beyond the hills

 

There is no motte to protect

by the knighthood of the mountains,

she is cloaked by dew,

and crowned by the snowflakes,

because her unquestionable royalty

rests deep within my heart,

of whom she is made queen.

                                              By Kakraba Afful

The cloak of love

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When I kiss the lips so mighty,

the world is dethroned,

by my mind does waltz into mystery,

and mystery smiles upon my

thought with the glee of denial

 

and I begin to walk on

the road ordained by the mountains,

to find out how my heart

can stop screaming in  wonder

 

when I see those eyes, unquestionable

there is peace within

and the wars that my soul has

fought are brought to justice,

by a wonderful silence

no more mutiny,

my soul seizes to betray

 

She smiles at her conquest

but my manhood does not limp

but rise without authority,

since my hands married

those palms, divine

 

And this feeling I wear,

makes life walk away,

but breathless I know

of deathlessness

and the novel of the gentle

she becomes the

omen of my soul

 

and by her tears,

the gales turn to hurricane

but her laughter,

fortunes runs towards me

 

So I cuddle her,

with this feeling I wear,

irresistible and influence

with an impulse of no impulse,

and I hold this true charm

in my palm,

one that makes my heart glaze

as it is brandished by truth

 

I do not fathom,

how my mist is cuddled,

not snared by friendly lightning,

but if I must be Rayden,

or breathe fire,

her presence must so

stand like a monument

not statue,

then she must smile like the spring,

bloom with the amore,

my only obedience to the might

she has given me.

                                        By Kakraba Afful

 

Diary of destruction

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Mighty stallions that wear bronze,

brandished their hypocrisy

with the shine of darkness,

light creeps in the corner

but it is unseen

denied the fame of conquest

 

Night is the ruler known,

shadow walked boldly

with the sunlight of stars,

smiling like blood,

laughing like deception

 

The nation goes downward

with this spiral of demolition,

venom strikes the peace

and kills it silently,

there is war,

but smiles hid everything,

the smile of the night

 

The safe is empty,

but the truth is battered

and bruised by authority

maimed and hung and killed,

till its seen no more

 

But there are eminent men,

those who wrestle in this

ring of misfortune,

till nightmares are well-beaten,

and when it is,

they shall surely bring the

sun back from exile.

                                By Kakraba Afful

The planet called melancholy

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Your comfort has been stabbed

by the rebellion of happiness,

well I must say,

you're under siege,

all people seemed to had fled from the world,

but you seemed to have

escaped from the ruthlessness

of the earth

to the Hitlery of a bottomless ditch

 

Thoughts, black as sin,

you are eclipsed with sorrow,

wondering, thinking

when happiness shall return,

it has long been assassinated,

long been terminated

by the murderers called misfortune

 

You have only the penny drought

to console you with debt

and a the throne of a hurricane

to break your spine in to,

as I can see,

there is a power cut somewhere,

so large, that darkness has invaded

the light,

hope has been disconnected

 

little do you know

that you sleep on a bed of spines

but you feel how it spokes

and kills the sanctity of your back

 

Now your very being

staggering to the ground,

gun shot by frustration,

bleeds in worry,

longing for death,

who is a distant friend

soon to home for your soul.

                                        By Kakraba Afful

More Articles …

  1. Sniffing Hades
  2. The predatory of doom
  3. The Hitlery of lies
  4. Ugly mirror

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