I have steel shackles in every space of my heart;
My mind is a cuffed oasis of weakness;
If i be the snare that braces rangers in despair,
I’d say that i burnt my shadow to dust
Knights come
Nights begone
Nice heights like huts of strength succumb;
For none is brave within the spirit i beckon
At least, on a tablespoonful of tears i feast each silent dawn;
Sovereign stays the quiet beat of my arteries;
I am the arsonist who inflamed his waters to ash and I am still not in a hurry to bury me a corpse
I take strolls like hikes on a pavement of disbelief;
I walk down the lane of joy while savoring my age old wrinkled pain like the breast milky stakes of strawberry wicks
Oh pray I death be quick;
The aroma of yesterday’s agony still lingers amongst the dead smiles of a young decade;
Maybe i can attest to the shame i have tasted
Oh pray i death be quick;
Be quick death to make nothing of the shallow sultan of disgrace defaced;
Make nothing of the distress i faced
I pledge my wits
I pledge my wobbling stench of a caliber;
Be i am swallowed down the throat of Mr. Nothing,
Shall my gaze, his oesophagus, wound
The wrestlers’ fist i thought i shall be
The warriors’ sword;
All i stand to gain is a casket (maybe white) of overaged worms and soft bones
I will live in a canon of delicious sexual urges;
Somehow, i shall watch lust exhume the full length of it’s lazy lean spear of a man*
Shall I enslave my wandering wonder of freedom?
Stuffy is the space where dwell i a lonely ghost
Until my days are reborn
By Benefo Solomon, Ghana
Contento Times 