the warped reflections
on memory's silvery waves.
Nor shall I incessantly fear
the haunting echo
yelling out of consciousness'
abysmal cave.
Will no more perturb me
the dazzling lightning
of intuition rending asunder
perception's dark robe.
Fear, I shall no more fear
speculations on the solemn shaft's
obscure terrain where shall
lie vanquished this clayclod
the cold, discarded cocoon
of a butterfly spinning,
boundless, freely,
in eternity's sky.
-- Kwami J. Nyamidie.
