I have come to pour you tears
From the ancestral gourd
That was broken yesterday
By the ancient terror
Whose identity is anonymous
The unforeseen visitor
Who always light sorrowful lamps on
our tables
You turned our taste sour
You primordial merchant of pain
Your departure has left us on crossroads
Our tears are drowning us
You left the stage
When the applause was so high
You vanished like a diffused vapour
in the thin air
My pen is crying
With its ink painting doleful words
Our hearts still ache
Like how we writhed the early cut
On our umbilical cord
Oh! Who will wake up the town crier?
From his nap to subpoena his people
The sun has taken asylum in
The house of darkness
Fire is making peace with water
We pay thee profound homage
To your eternal journey
To Odomankoma
Fare thee well Komla
Nantse yie; Dumor
Light of Ghanaian journalism
Spear of African media
You crossed the river without a canoe
You lampooned our joy with your
sudden transition
You have set us on
Lamentation altar
With our hearts invaded with agony
Why did you deceive us?
With your grinning smiles
Only to part our friendship
With untold story
That pressed down the balls
Of mighty warriors into nothing within
dust
You indeed sneaked through
The narrow hole of the ancient gate
To join yesterday’s ancestors
On the shores of immortality
Awaiting for the sound of the divine
bell
That will assemble us all together
To banquet with the hallelujahs
From the holy mouths
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