WHEN AT LAST EVERYTHING BECOMES ENGULFED IN MADNESS


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WHEN AT LAST EVERYTHING BECOMES ENGULFED IN MADNESS 

“Happy it all ended this way and that, and at the end we found out that nothing ever remained true in itself.” Sometimes under countless sweating situations it becomes like harvesting rice with your bare hands as birds feed from the sky from ones palms. When hopes are high; with beautiful pictures of the unreadable, you are alarmed as which turn of the road would lead to the true tale. Sadly, each day becomes eventful whiles lacking wholesomeness. Who dares thread cautiously without marking his trails inside an evil forest? For some five thousand years ago, what was a dream of sense now bleats under the eyes of a haunted generation as stupidity.

The reflections of a picture of some African slaves hanging breathlessly beside my window keeps my teeth at poke. I sometimes wish to ask whether those who measured this inhumane treatment on these Africans were human at all? And until am challenged by someone from the days that these Africans somehow were animal-like I would believe in human-ills…. The whole social spectrum has been engulfed in ‘whoredom’ ills. We pre-judge the fate of the wind before its even greets our houses. No one is above the law, yet we find out how some “blue men” from somewhere like space are treated above the same law we deem as ‘virgin’.

A time comes when all become like trees without roots and we simply shall run home to embrace death without a question of where what we chase after. Men are dissatisfied with themselves and no longer happy being men. On the other side of the coin, our women are dying in sumptuous dreams to be empowered all in the name of attaining the same status as men. And I begin to wonder what is wrong.  I become frightened about the pace about who shall reach the ultimate first before this whole madness of chasing the wind ends— nobody becomes exempted. You look at the society and can’t figure out whom as a young person you can fashion your life towards. The home, the school, the religious sects, the community and the peer soils have all become barren and diseased. A whole nation walks on foot without a wear— thus no common philosophical bedrock and thinks we are ready to ascertain our own problems let alone find solutions.

Books no longer hold the powers they had. They have become so blank and empty with no pious soul to wake minds from its slumber. The author is locked up in madness-of-hoodoo of a society that teaches nothing but honesty in lies of what is deemed desirable by some rot rules set by some corrupt men. The end of it reading is the pollutants we are seeing parading around as ‘saints’. The media has grew to become too cynic and occupied by misanthropes and misologues. Their mouths have become filled up with doomsayings and pessimism. You read, watch or listen to them to your end. Pollution mixed quack music of self-praising wipes the sense in the melodies of birds. We embrace all and rejects all. Yes, we embrace heartily what is not ours with all our conscience without a thought of its aftermath and rejects what is ours with the thought that they are evil and have assumed the said ignoramus token of “outmoded and outdated”. Such outrageousness!

I don’t hold my thoughts to anyone and nobody holds their thoughts to me. However, nothing assumes absolute when its finite is marked with thousands of question marks. If reality has not gone to denounce to the winds the similarities it shares with truth, then why should the rooster not be bothered with the sun’s failure to rise as promised?  Much as I love this society and it resurrected rots coined in madness, it would amount to a world of madness where the mad still sees that society as mad. I feel there must be some restoration of sanity. Something surely is wrong somewhere with this complex society of ours, and the less we keep to ourselves without acting; the hungrier it becomes to the growing needs of the madness around. I only pray my tongue and ink take my safety to these homes I have been walking all these years in the dust to carry this message to.

Written by
Comrade Nana Arhin Tsiwah
Cape Coast-Ghana
West Africa

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