For this mighty authority

all rules bend and break

wither and die,

for hopes and trust immortal

like a locket,

unto two must be comitted,

with the bravery of the heart,

sure

still

steadfast

kind

by the hospitality

of truth

and born to heroism

germinates in a humble patience,

solemn and understanding

for this peculiar magnetism

all enmity must bow

prostrate before its throne

when tears begin

to erode happiness

and smiles are cast

away by the spell of sadness,

this power shall assentuate,

luminate,

necessitate,

and not hesistate

to make you her talisman,

knighted by it,

you shall listen

with a prudence

unknown to man

in everlasting silence,

you,

shall soak tears

like the handkerchief

this covenant has made you

and she,

knowing that you

siphon the venom of sadness

from her

and bear it with load

and feel it in your heart

in the bosom of bravery,

shall smile,

knowing her hero

sits by her,

and she whips you

with words in the bout

of a quarrel,

though discomforted

and morally afflicted,

though the vengeful

fire of manhood,

makes the muscles congeal

and the fists frown,

yet a mighty conscience

quenches that urge

to batter and bruise

the heart, a loyal conscience,

inhales the difficult

mint of patience,

rage freezes

and the wonderful

humility ensues.

and when you pass away,

withering beneath the clay,

men, fireflies of life,

women, bees that

make the honey of ecstacy

shall fly to see your grave,

and you shall not be

known as man

or mere mortal

who parted through

the gates of existence,

but a matyr of love.

                                     By Kakraba Afful