Treasure Island

delalorm fiaka

(19th JUNE 1988 / ACCRA, GHANA)

IN THE VERY CRUST OF RETROGRESSION


In the very crust of retrogression
When depression has sapped up all your passion…
In the hollow belly of starvation
Where your dreams are snapped and your success seems to have taken a perpetual nap…
In trying times of agony whines and rusted dimes
When no bell seems to chime and everything seems out of line…
When your limits seem endearingly explicit
And even the devil deprives you of his credit…
When laughter is a treasure unviable
And you are dizzied by distress cliffs unsurmountable…
When it seems you’ve come to end of the road
And life’s tribulations put you in hibernation mode…
When sunshine scalds more than ever
And you meet a dead end with every manoeuvre…
When hope seems so slender, and through uncanny crevices you have to meander…
When you keep spelling never, in attempts to plot an endeavour
When there are no successes to savour…
When God seems to have relieved you of his favour
When the fear of looming failure makes you quiver….
And despair hangs high over
When there is an urge to hold your surge
When at the pillar of condemnation life your back does severely scourge….
Don’t retreat, don’t surrender
To the throne of success don’t be a pretender
Don’t let your adversaries rip your hopes asunder
Your dusk will certainly be over
And your illuminated dawn will prevail yonder…
Have ever paused to ponder?
Why a smile is victor over a frown?
Why up is always above down?
Why water is so soothing?
And life so enthralling?
Why fire could be scalding and yet so refining?
Don’t look back, in your pursuits you may skid off track
But don’t let yor alleys remain dark
Light them up with faith
Illuminate them with patience, it is worth the wait
In the very crust of retrogression lies the core of a great lesson
“life is not a luxury session.”

Submitted: Sunday, December 29, 2013
Edited: Monday, December 30, 2013

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