NAIJA BLOG

 What does a broken soul look like It is the thousand-year stare from empty dead eyes, vacant and numb  Triggers playing on a loop of tortured memories It is the tiredness of the rested And the rest of the tired... Weary from thoughts that line up like executioners  each shooting to kill It is the weariness and the tearless cry That rips through you and you talk to yourself Because no one wishes to hear It is the quiet despair that sits with you wearily at  noon You welcome sleep from the turmoil Alas sleep itself is full of torment so you wake unrested...and tired  The days are bleak...the future tortuous...the past tormentous and the present enveloped in an unending blanket of pain You call to heaven...the silence is darker than hope...

 I tried to create happiness but sadness came and enveloped me in its clammy embrace it stayed with me faithfully as I moved away and stayed with me like the shadow of death I saw happiness flee away I chased and chased but its feet  were so flit I tried to cage happiness by building a fortress of warmth and laughter  but sadness came and filled our home with grief sadness embraces me in the quiet of the noon and I weep and weep as I grieve and grieve pain that has nestled down in the  small of my chest and mourn and cry at the bleakness all around me 

 I thank you for showing me The side of unending pain that  Cut through the seven layers of the soul  The pain that goes on and on And leaves no tears I thank you for killing me with searing words And burying me in my despair That made me wait for the next tear I thank you for the lost years of the lost voice Of the broken hope that I groped for myself And found the image of you molded into the depth of my soul  I thank you for the betrayal ,the market square humiliation that left my soul bare and naked amid sneers and jeers I learnt from you to wall away To walk away  Even when you came back broken by life You found the shell you planted Soulless and hardened by you And I laughed at your fall Without mirth or anguish I thank you for the  lesson of life I am Still learning To be cruel to you and laugh as you crawl in throes of pain I learnt from you all lessons you taught  I learnt to use all the lessons you have

 why do we give too much credence to men the starters of wars the killers of truth the greedy, lustful and covetous we spend our years hoping in the fallible  making the fallen our heroes, they too are lost... and afraid of the death that stares at them are afraid of the age that charges at their reflection daily live in fear of the darkness that pursues them in the dark of the night we are all fallen and in darkness and we grope like the blind for answers Fate has scattered on the floor we are all blind lost and fallen and not one soul has the answers we all seek 

 Drawn to the lights The perfect and the beautiful Filled with covetous longings  Envious of the greater beings who Have all the shiny things.. We are led by passion, lust and wants We are led by the self-lovers, self -loathers Self-indulgent A world led by the lost We have failed to listen to the questions Our forsaken mind asks We do not discern reality from illusion We cannot decipher right from the wrong  Our leaders are vain and perfect on the digital screens And fill our empty ears with empty words.. We are led by the lost

 In their eyes you will find the questions you never asked The answers you always sought  In their smile you will find the hopes  You thought were lost And the courage to face the world  In their little hands you will find the strength you never had And the guiding light in the midst of all darkness These little beings with eyes so big and toothless smiles are our guardians through these stormy seas They will teach how to love And what love is They will show you how to be strong..stronger than Hercules But softer than water They will show you the secrets of the future You will not live to see.. They will heal you of your pain Your self They will heal you

Some say Karma is real, you reap what you sow, But men are not bothered by this old wives tale, existence is for self,trailed by seas of  tears ,sometimes blood, most times sorrows, this era of self. You were great once, a mustang wild and untamed Your word was law and you towered like a rock..  Even when they called for your head The young ones who shouted, cried and whimpered as they died... 8 unnamed...you did not go But they did.. nameless and forgotten... You prospered in wealth Were courted by power.. and Were forgotten.   But Nemisis is a Mushin Fighter... Dirty and shameless.. It was her turn to bare you naked to the world.   So we learnt you are now a shell and imprisoned by your love..  How you are slapped and can't say a word..the mighty Ali...I shake my head.. The cooks, garderners are only too glad to tell your tale to a gossip-thirsty world.. You are a shell Ali, old, scared, and imprisoned, devocalised  by life...you cry alone... Yo...