Of all the black legions that

were in his mind,

he had calculated with

the calculus of sin

and the tact of cunningness

All his steps were made

with the utmost inference

by the language of the pitchfork

He had eyes of the shadow,

a black iris, black as mystery,

he moved with the swagger of darkness

and the intentional silence of grim intelligence

He spoke with the shadow

to be a predator of the innocent,

devouring them with every chance he had,

looming over their spirit

and imprisoning them with the

grimest of consciences after he

had seduced them into laughing evil.

                                                     By Kakraba Afful