In the temple of self doubt,

I didn't have to do much,

the main aim was to meditate

on hopelessness

and all my dreams would be

burn to ashes by the fire of cowardice

Self-shyness was the incense

that was burnt, the belief

was in full course once it was inhale,

my mind then worshipped

doom in the sanctuary

called Lack of self-confidence

well, I was a devout worshipper

of this idol,

which fed me with image

that I was a clustomy of disgust

and fed me with lies

and fortified them into truth

in my eyes,

a grim paradigm a presume

Well, in this temple,

I believed I was a shadow,

and that if someone didn't shine,

I didn't exist.

I would prostrate before faithlessness

and speak the language of

defeat that this grave idol

had taught me.

                             By Kakraba Afful