The pain of criticism…..


If only things could be more clearer.
a broad explanation to these tears.
cause this time even my fears have been dethroned to a Lower tier of my pain.
betraying every last statement written down on this hearts manifesto.
with this mind working under a government overtaken by a coup, its a dictatorship, such a conundrum.
breathing, but just not living…
dating back to the uncivilized days before sir lord lugard freed us from the shackles of shattered dreams.
yet till this day i still can’t put together the pieces.
its like a puzzle, only that the pieces of mine seems to be lost in an ocean of apathetic passion.


The light visible at the end of each shadowed pipe.
The ending that seems unreal but takes reality on an unusual surprise.
The confidence you think is void but suddenly shows up.
The hope that comes with the desire to fight. The desire to hang tight and not give up.
The rage and anger that results in a fight against ugly situations that seem to cripple and cut short the beautiful smiles.
The positive “maybe” and “hopefully” that stands in front of each sentences spreading toxic fumes that neutralizes the fear within. dark shadows in darkness.
who dares for a smile?
prohibited words…. joy
atrocity? no! i dare
This is glimpse from guts.


i write…..
they say with passion
with words that comes alive within each line with words that roar out truth
with twisted feelings, retwisted but still understood within those unseen lines.
I write….
they say with raw words
unfiltered and so much relatable
with words surprisingly consoling your bottled feelings
I write…….
words I wish would console my own bottled feelings
I write, I wish I act
touching terms torturing souls triggering pain
I wish I could be at the receiving end absorb and be consoled
I write to mend your soul not necessarily mine
I mend, I wish, I self console
I write, I wish I act


I feel the deepest of regrets in the most memorable way
I feel the deepest of sadness in the most pleasurable way…
foresight becoming memorable insights.
never forgotten, never erased.
aftermaths of a bleeding love, painful pleasure…..
perfect play played perfectly…
when reality comes knocking,
fantasies become impossible occurrences blown into the wind.
I feel grief in love from a bleeding heart.
sanity threatening reality from a bleeding soul.
regrets worth experiencing one more time and maybe again……
I feel tortured love
this is reality worth escaping from……