Give Me Your Hand

Give me your hand
Some had request a life
Some a heart some a wife
But me, give me your hand
Some had desire your whole
Some your smile others your soul
But as for me give me your hand
Some will plead to stare at your beauty
Others will die to match your quality
But me, give me your hand
Some had grace the day you will nurce their seeds
Some had vow to grant your needs
As for me, give me your hand
I have not a single word to wisper
But my gentle hand is there to offer
So please give me your hand
I will wash it with my blood
And wipe it with bliss from God
You just give me your hand
I have nothing to lift you above

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poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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Song Of The Voiceless

Born in the midst of pain
Raised in the depth of strain
I'm a dumb little man
my voice is not more that a blowing fan
I sing songs of anarchy and neglect
But my songs are the simplest to forget
I played a string for my vain
I performed in street insane
Every single day
I played a song my way
I have a sharp sweet little voice
But everyone sees it as disturbing noise
I'm a musician no i'm a poet
I've wrote and sing beautiful words I get
I often performed in a theater in my home
with masse of dirty cheering me alone
I tied my mega-phone to the leg of my audience
I held my gitter With a smile of glaring radiance
I performed for my fans with all my skill
They in turn glance with applaud for they do not feel

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poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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Hello Africa

Hello africa are you still sleeping
Don’t you know that your God has brought another morning
Your brothers had cross the river already
And yet you are still not ready
You are the one that help them cross
Because you are the one that God give strength and force
Hello africa can tou hear me
To cross the river with speed light you can flee
Your brothers are waiting for you
But it is as if you did not want to go through
Hello africa are you dreaming
You need to wake up time is flying
Your sons are the vivid enemy
They embesseled your wealth making it their money
Hello africa you need to wake yp
Your brothers are anxious they did not want to stop
They are tired of helping you
They want to see you do
Hello africa I am inside you
Can you hear me your sons are looting you

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poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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The call of the azan

Here and there the voice is calling
It is a melancholic strain from antique bliss falling
Its calls from dreams, shallow depth and within the souls
The terror from its beauty is renting the world scrolls
The world is fastly ignoring the words of this call
Its beacons us, to slay our earthly task in a white hall
It's the call of the azan
Its shouts to the man with iman
Allah hu akbar its singing
In our eardrums the song is ringing
Let us dance our feets to the masjid
Let us trade our soul to this true feed
Let us dwell our life for allah
Let us accept Mohamed as his messanger
Allah hu akbar the song is warning
Allah hu akbar these words are calling
Stop ignoring this benevolent song
Run to its source it has no wrong
Allah hu akbar it is the call of the azan
Its urges us to start Islam

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poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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The Artists

you are the best artists
You hang my skin on the wall and drew me with ulna dip into my blood
You are great
You drew my face on your heart and paint it with love
You sew my name on your lip and pin it to the cloud
You background me with you in the distant future
Holding our seeds with smile of euphoria
You are my artist
You drew my mistakes on my chest and erase
It with your hand wrapping me softly
You blend our soul and mind and mount it as a kite flying the banner of bliss
You are beautiful
I've paint your heart with musk, your lip with honey and you skin with amber
We are both an artist
We carved ourselve with due
You clipped my eyes to the moon
I clipped the stars to you hair with galaxies of flower decorating our world
You my artist
You drew me with the world gazing at your statue hanging on the sky with flying nymphs sing songs of our artistic shadow

poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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Redeeming Mercy

dazzling mercy please descend on me
I'm walking in the paths where eyes cannot see
My feet has been kicking huddles far too long
It is wearing and the road seems too wrong
I want to try other way but i'm barricade by un seen walls
I have tried to shout but may mouth seems to be sending dumb calls
Glaring mercy please come dwell in me
You are the only thing I aught to have for free
Since I came to compete in this endless race
I have have been offer nothing free to embrace
The keeper of mercy, please do a favore for me
I have been working in my hamlet so honestly
My brothers with perverted ways seem to be dancing in your gift
Did they steal it? No, no one had ever been on that lift
Dear GOD, I know you will give me your mercy
I will be patient. That's all you want from me
Dazzling, glaring mercy come redeemed me
The globe is dark, everyone is deaf and we can't see

poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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Woman In Black!

Why are your eyes glowing so dark?
What are your woes?
Has the maker conspire with your foes?
Your eyes had been exuding blood far too long
Your soul is drowning in the seas of melancholic song
You can't sleep, you can't smile
Your eyes had been glued to that struggling fly

Woman in black!
What's that, your soul can't get back?
Your ears had been staring at your though
Your head had been replaying, memories you got
And slowly your eyes dripping red wine
Has your brain played any scene from an indian vine?

Woman in black!
What is it that you lack?
Are you mourning your bloodline death?
Or has the world reject your heart's facsimile breath?
The road seems so ageless for you to rode alone

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poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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We Were Helpless

We where wandering gladely in the crowd
When the cries started calling loud
We bockled our souls with fear
Hoping that our souls will send us somewhere
We scattered ourselves like a disowned bird
Praying for our story to be seen or heard
We scorned every corner in a bid to hide
But no hole suite our soul to glide
We were caught like a pekish pigeon
And sent to a deserted prison
There we learn how to part souls from the bodies
There we replace our infancies with brute hobbies
We became the santry in the battle field
As we stand in front like a human shield
We were let loose like a raving beast
To employ the gun as a better fist
Our close and country relatives became the foes
We smile and dance while we inflict woes
Our actions was the master of our head
While human suffering dominates our bread

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poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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I Meet A Lady Called Amina

Accidentally I meet her
She smiles, my heart gets sweeter
We started bawling honey words to ourselves
Alone, I smile, laugh, reflecting while staring at shelves
She sing me a song called Hallelujah
when alone my mind keep playing it ten times over

I became a victim of her magic spell
I stressed, I confused, I can't imagine, how to make my mouth tell
With countless thoughts engulfing my senses
I couldn't think of apeasing ways except to manipulate her defences
I was too foolish to think of manipulations
She called her heart and cancelled our friendly affections

I stand like a statue hating myself
Pleading like a league of mad men beating themself
She couldn't say a word except ''let me be''
I begged continuously, striving to set my heart free
She become dumbed to all my apology
And I become selfish, for helping me, not letting her be

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poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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I Was Born and Raised

When the sun was hanging bright
And the moon gloom with execsive light
Then I was born
When the days were constantly burning
And the cloud immensely weeping
Then I was born
When human were not humble
And the races were different people
Then I was born
When actions were filled with advantage
And the minds were like gabbage
Then I was born
When the street were filled with blood
And human words were built with fraud
Then I was born
When parents cannot make their stomach feed
And they cannot take the responsibility of their breed
Then I was born
Where the people were just part of a story
And their effort was to build another man glory

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poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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