My mind trails from an impervious nostalgia

and now the relaxation of my days

are haunted by a sleepless menace,

the ghoul of insomnia,

and my heart shriek deeply

of all its wounds,

a sore of defeat,

a sore of dejection,

my happiness was shot down

by the bullet of heartbreak

Reality wilts,

like a rose walking towards extinctions,

the alcohol of moroseness,

made the stars fall,

and the moon cry,

and the sun wept with tears of a shadow

and fallacy looms upon,

love, becomes the bitter fallacy,

she is walking on the lonely road alright,

but it is her back

that my forlorn eyes are destined to witness

this morbid curse

that turns my heart putrid,

dead and pungent again with nostalgia,

longing for the way she used to touch me,

and how my heart lived,

how it dueted with a profound peace

never known by mortality

By when her hands fled from mine,

I was no more immortal

and my soul bleed repetitively

by the stab of this wicked occurence,

and I linger and limp and yelp loudly

wondering,

thinking...

if even the might of time

would heal this barbaric wound.

A cataclysmic hurricane

sweeps away my life,

and there is no light,

my eyes, filled with pupils

of darkness,

I'm a walking corpse

with a splintered heart

Visions of the future,

diluted by sadness,

now my blood is flooded

with the caffeine of disillusion

The only comfort I have;

illusions pat me on the back,

luring me,

as the foul clock ticks

into the underworld of self-detonation.

                                                    By Kakraba Afful