The Mouth Of Hell Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

Of a blind life within the brain,
Of sold chains of our shackles about the feet;
Foe nown i do see the true old times.
Of the bitter tears against a brow,
Of my grievous wounds;
Sad as it is,
It is like the glories of the winter moon.
I am back from the mouth of hell,
Where the fairest hady laid her head upon my lap;
'You are the tallest of them all',
She said it because of love.
With the sadness of my heart like,
A dream from the frozen hills;
So i said to her, 'Am i your dearest'?
With my handsomeness still in years increased.

Tell me if you love me,
Like eight summers old with a lover;
Of a sudden cry out of hell to sing to eternity,
Like the inventor of harmonies that swing the muse.
'I am her dearest',
That is what i heard;
Of hopes and dreams to come out of hell!
My dearest, my nearest;
You are like a butterfly with sweet love but,
I am now out of your hell.
Like words across a ridge,
The pen is mightier than the sword;
Like a voluble answer,
The tongue is more evil than you thought.

It will be a token for her,
Paying for her in the valley of death;
Yes, love had led many into the mouth of hell.
My grief and solitude have broken me,
But i will still bless you all that i have loved;
Like the fountains of sweet water in the sea,
Have you seen her of late?
Love had led many to death,
Hate had led many to war,
But i am now out of this hell.