A warrior’s mind houses horror
and his scars, badges of honor.
Skies are the same everywhere,
with vision following anywhere.
Surely everyone somehow lies
and also depend on likely ties.
Everyone does like something
and as sure, dislikes one thing.
When life takes its final bend,
time tells everything at its end.
Eternity’ll run its long course,
leaving nothing just as before.
You can believe what you wish
but bad news is always heavier.
People ask you to make a wish
and choose what feels happier.
Still good is ever overwhelmed
by the bad already condemned.
Like the heavier are prominent;
lighter is always lost in content.
Kings and leaders are chosen
by common ordinary people.
They are lifted in their season,
taken up to be beyond simple.
Alas ordinary folks do forget,
from whence comes the egg,
again every chicken cometh;
such is the walk of every leg.
Simple people make leaders;
ever it is from amongst them.
As such these mirrored rulers
reflect those that made them.
More honour among thieves
than among these politicians.
Rogues wear heart on sleeves
and rulers tease as comedians.
To think we have only choices,
all based on these tight notices.
It is cruel as picking one reason
to be bedridden or be in a prison.
If anyone tried to live forever
they would have a joyless life;
with iry loneliness everywhere,
like some timeless cutting knife.
Life should be richly bountiful,
not boundless and too plentiful.
Living ought to be just that once;
long enough for a good chance,
to sow seeds in rare difference.
Leave behind a good name,
and die without one shame.
It’ll represents you the best;
give your legacy a good rest.
You’ll liken a good old author;
still alive forever like a shore.
Good memories of your name
always fair and ever the same.
Honesty isn’t cruel,
it is exact and old.
But all lies are new,
unreal and so bold.
One lie begat more;
like a loving whore
in God’s priesthood.
Land is in pieces not peace,
when bold young are restless,
and wickedness is all at ease,
when righteousness grows less.
The majority make less noise,
and choked silent by choice.
A visible minority is in riches
and as inaccessably famous
as dreams, jobs and wishes.
Why make of beauty what it is not
or make falsehood the fact it is not?
Why call a name where it isn’t loved
or hate for reasons another is loved?
Why share in the logic for blind faith
then deny love it’s heartbeat or breath?
Why refuse to be forced to behave
but relish in the spoils cruelty gave?
Why make the most common sense,
rot away until it becomes nonsense?
Love is patient and love is kind;
doesn’t envy, it’s one of a kind.
It doesn’t boast, it isn’t proud.
Love does not dishonor others;
it isn’t self-seeking or ever loud.
It isn’t easily angered by others.
Love keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in any evil,
but rejoices with truthful tongues.
It always ever protects and is civil.
It always trusts and always hopes;
always perseveres, anyhow it goes.
1 Corinthians 13:4-8NIV
Who said darkness is scary?
Tell them to close their eyes.
For even hell’s molten firery,
where its demons melt as ice;
every dream in its hot wealth
comes in blind sleep not light.
The fear of the unknown
is the beginning of wisdom.
Searching more of the known,
does not guarantee a kingdom.
Things we know the most;
those bothering us the most,
are those that worry most of all
and they always do make us fall.
We are being forced to be quiet
because of many voices around.
But thoughts aren’t as obidient
and minds are freest than sound.
We are working our way there,
where thought and sound wed.
The mind will shed it’s old fear,
and freedom will sleep in its bed.
We know where the future is,
it’s in front somewhere coming.
It is impossible for any to miss,
except those dead, lost or missing.
Like time, future moves in form,
and awaits all that come its way.
Since time doesn’t have one form,
so future too makes in its own way.
When we arrive at an old age,
time is quick and we are slow.
Everyone else only see a sage
though we only still just know.
Arriving at a renewed bondage
when all tell us what we know.
Thinking becomes so plentiful,
time is there but quite useless.
We are burdened to be useful,
yet challenged to be needless.
When life is richer and needful,
it gives notice that it is pointless.
The Cockerel that thinks
the sun rises to its crows,
knows not a pig sty stinks
and it’s for a meal it grows.
The moment you follow,
you are surely being led.
You are like your shadow
very much like the dead.
Very ancient saying goes;
To teach is to learn twice.
A much newer one goes;
once bitten, learned twice.
Both rarest lesson in price.
Older ones tend to know
but forget what they saw.
While younger ones show,
they care less like before.
Both never learn for sure.
You’re never too old to grow up;
you are never ever wise enough.
The reason why people grow up,
is for the passage, which is tough.
At the end, life is a passing thing
and it’ll always be like it has been.
Like many meals with everything,
life finishes like it has never been.
Baba, mutuwa na da wuya?
Mun amince duniya da wuya.
Father, is it hard to die?
We acknowledge hassles of the world.
With life’s wards always roams a lie;
We all are reproductions of its mould.
Choking in the presence of its grip,
The inscrutable crux not familiarized.
Do we sit out the stages of its trip,
Like your peaceful love that wasn’t recognized?
From the weep the baby wails
To the whip’s lashes life hails,
These tastes we own and inherit.
Say oh father, is there better to merit?
Continue to rest in peace father.
Whole world is actually round;
that isn’t debatable anymore.
The round world goes around,
and comes around some more.
This simple truth is influential;
so much that it is the sole rule,
that is most definitely crucial
in the manner world runs true.
Complete dark void with no life;
then it somehow came together,
in some type of explosion of life,
no known cause or source matter.
But the explosion is such a way
that somehow it miraculously
spreads seeds of life every way
and all came about beautifully.
This took many millions of years,
it creates life diverse as any cell;
from a simple amoeba and ears,
to an Einstein’s huge brain cell.
Maybe we’re sure that happened,
or maybe it is the miracle story,
better still none had happened.
It’s only sides we’ve of the story.
The best way to nurture life,
is to be at peace that it ends.
Most lessons we learn in life;
aren’t those life recommends.
Best knowledge we acquire,
we actually taught ourselves.
The bits and grit we require,
fall into place by themselves.
Wealth as Splendor in the tale
is named Humpty as Dumbty.
Felt Dumb and Haughty it fell
and pieces became its mighty.
All it has ever owned is Spent,
as all the King’s men would tell.
Majesty of many castles’ wealth,
drank to weeds in ruined health.
The most important truth
is most often the simplest.
Hardest to follow through,
yet spoken of most easiest.
We give our best as we must,
yet the best are never enough.
Every new trail is endless a lost;
it likens despair we ever sought.
To make something,
is to truly discover it.
To discover anything,
is truly uncovering it.
Things we think made,
were simply uncovered.
Someone lit the shade
and sights discovered.
Every moment is spent not used,
as opportunities taken or refused.
The passage of time is an escape.
Every lifestyle ever takes a shape.
Daily strifes and expectations,
wake people up every morning.
Then returning to same situations,
people live for joy and its mourning.
Most times we feel things,
and sense them well ahead.
Many times see these things
but don’t avoid them instead.
The signs will be there for all,
like we stumble before we fall.
Doubt stammered before it spoke,
like there’s fire where there’s smoke.
It’s always wise to understand
those who have a hold on you.
Always know where they stand,
for it is rarely always with you.
We all have some major desires,
even when they’re hidden in us.
Knowledge is gotten, dear sirs.
Wisdom is nurtured within us.
Holding onto you
and all time stops.
Very smell of you
fills my many cups.
Sweetness all about
sorrounds the still air.
Breathing in and out,
makes leaving to fear.
I am full but not fed.
I’m held in my breath,
that hasn’t yet paused.
You’re my living wealth.
All is never ever as it is or well,
even in Satan’s strictest of hell.
There is always the weird sort,
who make of goodness a sport.
Gratitude is the right attitude;
it always gives some latitude,
that will lift the down trodden,
make out fertilizer of its rotten.
Once was a rich man
with a big spoiled family;
he lived an unhappy man.
He wrote his will
and he put in a pan,
stamped with his seal.
After he had died
his whole family met
to mourn and all cried.
His will unsealed
and then it’s torn up
as they merrily mealed.
World is the baggage that matter,
life is the manner we carry it on.
Time is the passage and ladder,
age is it’s numbered mile stone.
World is a mission we’re tasked.
Living is the tour we are allowed.
Time is our tenures unmasked.
Age likens a sentence awarded.
Every day passes into another,
in the same likeness and order.
Morning blends into bright days,
evening dims out in similar ways.
Renewed days busting bubbles,
moving airy shades in mingles.
No difference in multiple colors,
only mystery behind their doors.
Past is never where we leave it,
it goes with us anywhere we go.
Past is the invincible scarred bit
that heals, remain and still show.
Like a past, everyone has a scar
that help make ’em who they’re.
Experience is in the difference,
for stereotypes aren’t evidence.
Those who habitually generalize
would end up telling general lies.
Time crawls to us, not away;
and it catches up in our way.
We’re never its chasing park;
like a Wolf it finds our track.
That time waits for none of us,
is more true than we choose.
For it does edges towards us
and always ever looming close.
I am a dreamer,
not in my sleep.
I am the winner
in good upkeep.
Lurking so near
in my mind’s liar,
an unending tale
also fitting to tell.
All thoughts are,
But dreams are,
firm virtual forts.
Dreams carry on,
never do end later.
They’re once upon
and also ever after.
Seconds sprint, minutes gallop,
hour is a walk and day the trip.
Daily lives make everyone hop
and the long jumpers are cheap
People do choose to live forever
and make their lives last longer.
Every single generation further;
a rebirth, new and yet another.
There are thin lines between
knowing what,why and when.
When would set up the win,
after What has been chosen.
Why doesn’t come as often.
Choices come fast and quick;
settings we don’t make or pick,
Daily life or death situations,
all demand instant decisions.
Grown ups’ dream in sleep
likens children’s living faith.
Man’s thought is ever deep
like the child’s love is neat.
Trust has a short life time
that outlives only childhood.
Every man lives within crime
and children learn its mood.
Trust is fragile,
words are agile.
Time is limited,
the aged gifted.
All have ties,
People are kitted
to be mean and vile,
loving but conceited.
Fly dear little bird
and make the nest.
Set your fluffy bed,
for today and next.
Tomorrow ever late
will give it’s reasons.
Find yourself a mate
to breed in seasons.
When the mind’s worried
and the heart’s disturbed
sky turn mainly blue daily;
like oceans also too wavy.
Sun’s glow appears burnt,
moon makes a sad afront.
Lonely life looks abandoned,
its sojourn feeling condoned.
Sad and unhappiness is cold,
all things turn blue the world.
Honking is mating season here,
drivers make frog song feel fair.
Hurried races on the sidewalks;
stampedes amidst its tall stalks.
World’s going in one big hurry;
perceptive and focus all blurry.
All life reduced to sprints daily,
as peopled streets are all crazy.
Inspired by @faucon315
After all what is there in life;
only sleep, wake, sleep again?
What’s there in the living hype,
but bits of joy in a pond of pain.
What’s it to keep and defend,
just come and go as we came?
What’s to have when it all end,
when dust and ash will remain?
How can someone so smart,
turn out quite so stupid too?
How come someone so loved
could turn out quite so cruel?
There are ever circumstances;
and ever always consequences.
As there’s timing in everything,
are also reasons for everything.
There is everything for its time,
like everything in its own time.
gets in the way of niceties.
But then certain instances
maketh their opportunities,
without warning or any ease
Taking the ride through life
feels like towed backwards.
Seeing clearer for your self
after you heard your words.
Living likens owing the Gods.
We can’t change what we can’t;
it’s a fact of life that outlive us.
No getting on or off as you want;
complain your wish, life is no bus.
Go with the flow of ticking time,
taking all the decisions you must.
Spend well your currency of time,
no change left when we die at last.
Lot easier to fall out of love
than it is to fall in love.
Something in human nature
makes it easier to puncture
than it is to slowly nurture.
Lifetime is a tricky staircase,
one people make and chase.
Each, their very own building;
you got the land, start building.
If you’re in love now;
at this very moment,
or you’ve ever loved
but it’s just not current
Then you’re lucky my friend
because not everyone loves.
Most think so and pretend.
Like breath everyone knows,
love comes and it goes
But remains as you choose.
Who decides when we die,
for what we chose to die;
ideas we select to defend?
After all is there a greater lie
than the world is only one lie,
when its many lies has no end?
Living is one steady struggle,
the world is one dying jungle;
with logs in eyes to condemn.