The truth, a walking mirror

yet unseen and invisible,

ugly and bitter in its bosom,

creeps in the lair of ignorance,

by the oligarchy of lies

Knowing very well

it flies like a raging sword

when told,

lingers in the conscience

of men, drowned in exile,

and made extinct

by the perpetual choice

of fallacy

Well, like I said,

as I ugly as it is

does not shine,

and continues to

darken with the leprosy of revelation

and rejected and dejected

it becomes a merciless

arrow when unleashed,

but for now it is chained

by vehement negligence,

awaiting the time it shall

be release by the transparence

of destiny itself.

                                By Kakraba Afful