Written by: awoh kingsley awoh

Stock in the 
qurgmire of the

Chains of reactions
appreciating within
my loins,

Streams of memories

My heart knitted to
his moribund imagery
As i stoop on my
kneel conquering my

But the mighty wings
of the dark cloud
touch my lips, 

O Lord , not again

My thoughts stood
between my mouth, i
mumble the unspoken
words but the heaven
turn deaf ear

In the corner of my
heart, i slip into
his room, beaming at
his pic, as a migthy
ocean cascaded from
my eyes

It was a hot
afternoon, i was
just eighteen but i
could tell a girl
from a woman, but i
couldn't tell if
grandpa was asleep
or gone
This day, i sat on
his moribund chair,
the exact chair that
dragged him out of
the living....

awoh awoh...
dedicated to grandpa