from the poetry of sand,

to the novels of clay,

a behemoth sleeps, constructed

by bricks,

the souls of many are locked

in there,

you can hear them moan

or cry

about the agony

of their futile convictions


Iron bars of righteous esteem,

radiate memories

of the killings and the murders

and the robberies,

then suddenly, they forgo sordid ignorance,

the theft of the mind,

they're at home,

yet convicts of their wrong doing


Now, their vicions are tainted

with blood,

and their peace has been

stolen by their own cruel actions,

rattled conscience!

their sins ressurrect as ghouls

to hover over them

and their future,

they shall know no rest

till the truth has been spoken.

                                                        By Kakraba Afful

Like it on Facebook, +1 on Google, Tweet it or share this article on other bookmarking websites.

Written by
De-graft Afful Jr.
I am an eighteen year old writer, who wants to be recognized worldwide for my writing. I currently live in Utah, Orem. I LOVE writing.
  • No comments found

We are one community is a community driven articles and knowledge sharing portal. Members can share their knowledge with other members and visitors of the website and make them-self popular in the massive Internet world. is used not only as a platform to share the content and knowledge, but also a useful tool to learn from the vast amount of knowledge shared by thousands of registered users of the website. The content directory is a host of all the articles posted by the community and is available for the visitors of to read and learn from the extensive knowledge,