escape

A group of school boys cross the highway. Accra, Ghana. © Random Photo Journal

The clock aches, as it rakes toward the day’s conclusion. Heat has radiated its terror mercilessly and sweat no longer has the patience to forage towards my temples. Professor’s words drift into a mélange of nothingness, an ode to walking on by. The timer’s tick haunts and slashes at the vile muck I find myself in - a wishbone to the mere sound of a football bouncing off the pavement edge. These four walls muddy the waters, embedded in mental warfare bound at her institution’s pleasure. Enveloped are the faces of those unequivocally devoid of expression, sat on a platter rich in hopelessness. Chalk screeches and serves to twitch facial muscles where smiles once reigned, in doing so revealing days gone by. Vacant is the mind that labors under the illusion this here are living, breathing souls each with equivocal enthusiasm. Within these four walls is semblance of what couldn’t be.. what shouldn’t be.

 Chimes of heaven’s gate extrapolate euphoria once shut out, and order flees before it. Now fleet of foot, and amongst nature’s gift... you are free to be youthful again