Ira Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

He lay with her and violated her,
Of a blood relative in times like this;
But i will have my donkey and saddled and,
I will ride on it.

I am too old like an old Balsam tree and,
I cannot tell the difference between fine and bad;
So, how can i taste what i eat or drink? !

Ira, i can no longer hear the voice of men and women singing;
So come and let us go to Abel Beth Maacah,
For the truth is said to be there always.