I began and lost my bearings
Engulfed in my own forest
so much that the cutlass
stained.
couldn’t resist a wearing
my own stagnancy caused
my fabrics to start tearing
if one must unravel
to invest in destiny
have those who choose
to save in simplicity
been limited
not to life
but to mere existence?
it took sticks and stones
to realise
possession of a plethora
of resources to forage
a new path
but also to mend existing ones
does the condor pay attention to its trajectory
or does it pay no mind to a flurry?
a foundation of postulations
dare I say not so stable.
Despite the drapery
The beams and the tack
remain feeble.
find reinforcement,
better stitching
in one’s seams
if time is taken to gauge
To fully assess
grab hold
and turn page
To ask the sea for passage
does not make one sagacious
It’s simply mere courtesy
Edward Adonteng 