FalseReign

Updated on March 30, 2018

You make me miss the old days.

Not the best of heydays but indeed,

I miss the slay of demons with the old ways.


It’s a new era, a new song, a new chief.

But why then am I dancing to the old beat?

Perhaps, ‘tis the old reign I seek.


Promised of honey and sugar from the lips of similar sweet,

To which these false routines exercise the mind at no ease;

The gain of this pain is a muscular siege mentality.


Why is there so much bitterness in these rocks that I taste?

Are they pearls, are they rubies or they are diamonds of fate?

Do I hold in high prestige or cast them back to you? I debate.


In the sober days when the sun shined so bright like you,

She was the light, she was the standard that ruled;

The discernment that overthrew condescension with truth.


When the moon lit the intoxicated nights,

When we got drunk from the affection and fights,

She was the goddess to whom I made the sacrifice.


Feeling in debt to the ink that filled the pages,

Of the script I’m penning down over the ages,

As though in borrowed blood is what I scribble with daily.


Your presence is the absence I feared.

Your words, just another version of you, waiting to be suddenly veered.

Please, just don’t say, “you are” when you never were.


Coz truly,

You make me miss the old days.

Not the best of heydays but indeed,

I miss the slay of demons with the old ways.

© 2018 Krakye Omane Poku

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    • KrakyePoku profile image
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      Krakye Omane Poku 3 weeks ago from Ghana

      thanks Manatita

    • manatita44 profile image

      manatita44 3 weeks ago from london

      Excellent poetry. Missing the old ways and the old days, eh? More Light around the tunnel Bro. Nice poem.

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