"The world is a garden of thorns - some of thorns, some of flowers." The world is a domain of choice. For you to choose between thorns and flowers. The feeling of feel and life. The world is a heap of mixture. Of you and I. Of hates and loves. Of locks and embraces. Of illusion and reality. Of pierces and repairs. Of things common and uncommon. Of poetry and prose. Of silences in lullabies. and of living for this day and more. Happy International Poetry Day.
HU MANI TY What is literature without a society filled with diverse characters? What is humanity without lensed levity. At times, we watch them tainting us with their cheats and shitty shits. They are humble in their callosity. In expressed generosity, they step on our already tattered life, leaving us to cuddle more slums. What has become of my nation that was birthed from a fruitful juice, bathed in the foundation of our satisfied ancestors. Now, it is being washed with the infidel hands of the unfaithful son of fathers. What is life filled with the only glory of existing? For a while, the organism, like a blur to humanity, until beings became a subjected prey to their creations. We all wake up one day to hear a news, "quarantine, no more work, no movement", no vibes to live. A general decision fo
What is your own pain? Is it pain itself? or its triggers? My society is that of bountiful desires and pinned expectations. Pressure rests on the Young like a bomb, veils their reasoning with societal blindness captures hearts with fears and breathes into existence with nothingness "I will come back." such blissful promise and hope from the young lad. Like a robust cloud, we all waited and waited but the august visitor cut him down shattered hearts and totality on an innocent day. Then the trail trails... to prick another young.
Comments
Thank you Bloom.
"may good providence collide with our existence".
Thats lit!
It is punchy and a stimulant of emotions.
Kudos
It is punchy and a stimulant of emotions.
Kudos