Flower 

Now Deeply rooted in my grey matter, emotions stem from a flower that never leaves. I lay there, mired in thought, wondering how different my plot would be, if her seeds were never sown… If she had never grown on me…

Her petals shine like gold medals, on my podium of pandemonium, cropping up ever more awesome with each blossom…implanted in my dreams, almost magically…

Tragically, She radically soils my clarity…
I work tirelessly to harvest reality, supersede her from train of thought, weed her from my memories…an endless lobotomy, aimed at this enigmatic botany… My efforts are fruitless…

But the truth is, she is not to blame for this matter, It was I who plowed my grey matter, till it was conducive, exclusively for… my flower

A Pegasus perplexus 

A zebra, made to stand out, forever wild and free.

It seeks to rid itself of those that would ride on its back.

It strives to know it’s stripes, not to earn them…

For with that wisdom comes a new genesis of elegance, the birth of the peagusus.

Made to fly high above life’s perplexus…controlling the reins of its own destiny… Reigned over by no man.

 

Forever wild and free…

 

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the mystic emotion

“the finest emotion of which we are capable is the mystic emotion. Herein lies the germ of all art and all true science. Anyone to whom this feeling is alien, who is no longer capable of wonderment, and lives in a state of fear, is a dead man. To know that what is impenetrable for us really exists, and manifests itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty, whose gross forms alone are intelligible to our poor faculties – this knowledge, this feeling … that is the core of the true religious sentiment. In this sense, and in this sense alone, I rank myself among profoundly religious men.”-Albert Einstein

” yeah me too fam”- Joel chidi Sydenham

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Paper tigers 

Paper tigers on the paper trail, earning their stripes without fail.

The Hunter talks of taking the beast by its tail, while the shepherd tells comforting wife’s tales, to the rest of the villagers praying not to fall prey.
Those from the west begin to flee east, from the heardless beast, that didn’t roar to be heard. The eye of the Tiger speaks a thousand words, all of which are echos of death.
Prowling quietly, growling silently, crouching low before it pounces violently…

Shades of black and bright vermillion, like a frightening fire that freezes millions… The Hunter tries to ride the Tiger wild, the shepherd would rather see it tamed.
They all fail to understand. To the beast, everyone is game… regardless of where they may stand.
Paper tigers lead us to the paper trial…

false profit

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With the aim to gain from pain, we were told to shun the sun to make hay,

No control over the games were made to play.

With salt soaked wounds from imaginary shark attacks,

We freshen our breath to bite back.

Love placed under cardiac arrest, all hearts under attack, broken dreams piled in a stack…

 

A Divine unity that was cracked, into finer fractals.

Looking back into pitch black, dimmer lights lead us astray.

Our voice was drowned in quiet waters, our choice buried in the greener pasture,

Leading roles that were played by actors, who sought pleasure pushing bruised buttons.

 

Nothing more than a shrinking statistic that rounds up to nothing,

Both lost and forgotten, for we existed, in a state of something rotten.

 

Lost at sea 

Lost at sea, where I can find myself;  

Soaking, in hope; tired, from riding the tides of life’s ocean. Floating, from coast to coast with nothing to boast of; bar the treasures of truth. Navigating my thoughts through, future mist, towards something new. Blue, when I look back on ships that sailed past. Lost, for all that’s here to see is my eerie reflection, drifting. I find myself sifting through ship wrecks left behind. Diving too deep, yet somehow washed up on freedoms shoreline… Im tired, and I’m lost, but I’m doing just fine…