Pain

How do I treat you

I have spent years building a fortress against you but you still destroy me Oh Weak heart you have been destroyed again by words and insinuations and lies how will you rebuild yourself in the midst of all this pain

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ibrahim Indimi was at CAN Centre and Dalori IDP_Camps

Image
Son of Borno Billionaire, Ibrahim Indimi was at CAN Centre and Dalori IDP_Camps to graciously offer humanitarian assistance to some vulnerable IDPs, he was accompanied by Grema Terab, Abba Sec Maina Yusuf Galtimari and Babagana Abatcha. The visit just comes after his brother Ahmed's wedding to Zahra Buhari over the weekend. Ibrahim_Indimi, who stated that, he has been concerned by the plight of his IDP brothers and Sisters, distributed Blankets, Sweaters and Cash to a good number of IDPs out of the little from his pocket. Grema_Terab commended Ibrahim Indimi for his timely and laudable efforts. He further seized the opportunity to call on other sons and daughters of Borno to emulate Ibrahim Indimi and to lend their voice to the IDPs in order to ensure the desired attention towards them. The IDPs expressed their gratitude for the kind gesture and collectively prayed for the peace and prosperity of Borno.
Read more

Vox et praeterea nihil.

 We live like shadows transit, fleeting, evanescent forgotten in time. would the world know that a versatile writer lived, who was buried in the tombs of valuable paper,  overworked, brain-dead from the monotony of survival who would know that a great painter existed, full of zeal for his passion,  whose passion was stifled, strangled, and killed by viperous words of the stupid, the envious, and the myopic.. who will remember the thinker and philosopher analogous to Plato, Nietzsche, Petterson,  avoided by kith and kin, branded a misfit and blasphemous by society, living dreadfully in a haze of dissociated alcoholic stupor we all exist in nothingness, hollow and void of actual existence we live, we breathe, we dance, we copulate, we go grey, we fight the ghosts of the pasts,  we live with disappointments and sink warmly into the bed and grave that beckons us.
Read more

Eyes

  Your eyes like whispers of hope  in the midst of my troubled soul so I drank from it  and wrote my story with the dreams that lay hidden beneath.  Oh how those would save me, would save me and so I waited for your little games and your little words like water for Nigerians in the Agadez in the delusion of hope,  you made the pain that sought me from every side calm and i waited in love with a mirage from the past  but realised you too had become hardened from vices you embraced  and I shirked you had the become the pain I had
Read more