when I met her,

I felt like I was virtually

walking barefeet, on ice

my breathe froze

and my body temperature fell,

I was statuated by her subzero aura

she froze my words,

she froze my eyes

she froze my body

she froze my soul,

she froze my heart,

beating in the ice of shyness

I experienced an inner winter,

the chill of shyness,

my confidence froze

she walked like adventure,

her beauty, a glitter

and her eyes, twin talismans of perfection,

she was surely a diva from redemption,

moulded purposely by a magnum chocolate

colour, ostentatious legs

and a bright aura

I hope you know by now,

I was in love with this girl,

till she denied me,

and my heart cracked

because of her betrayal,

the betrayal of the walking iceberg.

                                                     By Kakraba Afful

she supercharges me like a battery,

she is the powerpack of life,

her kiss is just enough

to give me a power surge,

so I become Rayden

when I see her magical, transforming eyes,

I become the best,

so I'm Optimus prime

She makes my heart

fly like a rocket or shooting star

into the sky,

my wondering lips marvel

and tremble at her magneminence

my soul shimmers at

her lightnning kiss

she's so supernatural,

because she offers super love.

                                                  By Kakraba Afful

when you see the splinters of

splintering, screaming blood

and the dastardly, behemacy of the

foul hand,

you know what murder is

One of the commandments have

been toppled over with

the sinister eyes of death

or eradication of life

See how plain, disastrous

sharp stell intrudes the chest

and kisses the heart

with the extinction a pulse,

murder...killing...blood

this is the story

written by a dagger.

                                     By Kakraba Afful

It was the gunshot of destiny,

and I had to runaway from this verbal firing squad,

where I experienced the black hiss

of gunpowder

and the black kiss of masturbating bullets

It was my integrity, moaning in

this oral deathrow,

sitting on the electric chair

of criticism,

I had to escape from this sobibor

and run free

to the land of acceptance.

                         By Kakraba Afful