A Withering song by Dennis Okyere Brako
Left in the middle of the forgotten path
The journey has come to a sudden bend
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From seed formation the warfare was on
A fetus developing to be born
On a journey of nine long treacherous moons
Inside the protective womb of motherhood
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Pick the pieces by Dennis Okyere Brako
With careful measure I was built with treasure
Gleaming in splendor I was painted in leisure
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The Arena of life by Dennis Okyere Brako
Waiting In the arena, I dreaded playing the game
The panic of the announcer mentioning my name
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New self-order by Dennis Okyere Brako
I'm circled and choking on every side
By the crashing burden of sorrows tide
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My volcano by Dennis Okyere Brako
Stretching forth into the heavens
Lies the mountain of the Vikings
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The game of life we play to gain
Its twists and turns are full of pain
The shrills and thrills are secrets ordained
To self-resign, are oracles profaned
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I looked down the old rugged road
Incongruously trodden by men of old
On each side where the mould grows
Wherefore should I go?
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Unlike the many songs of failed fatherhood
My melodies are legacies inked beyond neighborhoods
Composed in gratitude and admiration for a father
Who nurtured an empire and pushed its frontiers further
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The soul of the dwindling fires cries
Whiles I shiver, at the cold winter's bites
No fumes from the dying embers rises!
A dirge I'm left to sing, as the last fires dies!
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