To the quotes that never made it here To the stories that were not scribbled from my depth To the poems that barely graced my ink To the contests I wasn't chosen to bless the stage To the ones that screamed NO to my face.
Thank you For all things lost will be regained With time RIP but don't rest forever Because I'm coming for you again.
Writing is the only art that keeps me in check with my thoughts Writing defines me in totality. I am and I will always be a writer. It unravels mysteries my ink whispers, just for my hearing I write because it's more of a call...it's a lifeduty
Here comes the maiden With a hearty laden A poise of a relent dove The calibre of a wild sheep For all the globe knew She mounted from above Her offspring was esthetic nature Basking in surviving health
Here she comes The one foretold As the "Warrior from the slums" She was the "her" He had awaited for a fortnight Make the reins ready It is this heroine we crave for
It's not like I don't feel the jabs of pain that hit me back to back But I still face them head to head and munch them off like a snack That is bravery,my friends
He was the danddruff That stuck to my scalp like glue His words engulfed my being With sensations I crowned all mighty His stares pierced through my soul Like a dagger on a target Let me not delve into the mystery of his arms Where I locked myself from the rages of the wind and the scorches of the sun A virus he was A good one I thought