FIRE OF MOODS

  look me in the eye and tell me if you have seen this cloud made out of four casts. secrets... sorrows... pain... fear. to get a rainbow you have to go through the rain. so I have heard. but after dark nights of heavy rain, dawn has done us wrong. how we thought we felt forever and became roses in the rain is a pain for perfection. and the smell of nature that should be our bond, eventually tore us apart. look me in the eye and tell me if you have seen this cloud made out of four casts. (i) where rainbows run from rain, (ii) and love longs to drown in a lagoon. (iii) where pain-drops upon pain-drops fall from a sober sky, (iv) till you become a walking umbrella. if you have seen this cloud, it means I am not alone, in this cuddle with coldness, and drench in the rain. #El_Magnifico™ [[Published on Cultural Reverence Magazine ]]

  He: cuties are many but none is as cute as you, yours is cuteness that sweeps emotions through my veins. your eyes on me, my eyes on you, your tender touch alleviates my pain. Her: staring at you has become my hobby, I feel my world spin at the glimpse of your face, your sexy body is driving me nuts, your smiles alone melts the hardest ice. He: your eyes are sexier than the evening breeze, filled with brightness of a billion fireflies, the crickets sing of your elegance with such ease, and colourful birds dance to your elegance in the skies. Her: I yearn for your touch day and night, hoping you'll one day realize how much I want you close. it breaks my heart to pieces whenever I see you with other girls, 'cos I need you just for myself. Him: your lips are adorned with angelic spells, kiss my lips that my soul may fly with wings. under this moonlight I crave into your innermost shell, that by dawn two bodies may become one soul. Her: my whole being is going wild just at the me

  withdraw from bleeding on sheets of pride, dragging forth omen from its abode. ye rods of fear enveloped in cloak of scries, whose dark eyes sees no good. withdraw from foolish lust portrayed by dark fingers, whose visions are hell... fire... death... doom. glorifying in the title- prophet, to exalt anguish and hysteria. seers of blood and dark crevices, magnified in purity of an enshrouded darkness. "hills shall fall, cattles shall die, and wolves shall fly with wings",- awful seers. scribble not anymore on slain pages. close thine eyes and cause doom to die. open them, end this night and breathe the morning fresh. sit by the star and even the odds, for doom is a respecter of none. #El_Magnifico™

  I pledge... what crime is this from firm lips covering weak hearts, and dark souls- darker than the caves of hell. whose weightless words are drowned by vile dreams roaring in their heads. madmen of two halves. sin- dark... dark sin. grandeur- wild... horror disguised. we are born and broken into this grip of hell. symbols of lies, wombed to pile spoils into self pockets. I pledge... to be faithful, loyal and honest. to serve with all my strength. to defend unity and uphold honour and glory... sham! naked sham! we are bricks breaking ourselves to lay waste. we are madness. you... I... Nigerians. #El_Magnifico™

  I bereave this path, for I have found death on every footprint that courage left behind. there is woe in a pregnant womb that refuses to deliver. for they are plagued by many miscarriages and forced to make death a regular companion. my tears are dried up, for I have cried them at the wake of the weak who died a thousand death from a thousand fret, that left them unwilling to fight fear and face danger, like an impotent organ gently stroked by foreign hands.  who shall teach a man to rage and show him the courage to wage war against death, when he refuses to give birth to the many suns that could help him rise. for they have bound themselves to their graves, and their crave is not just brave enough to break free. I bereave this path, for a thousand death emerges from a thousand steps every time courage retreats. #El_Magnifico™

  home is a heaven without a god. I know this for I have searched the breadth of kinship and found a seed of contempt in place of a throne. I can hear you think me false, even when you cherish the reverence that strengthens you from strangers, and strangely wish you were a stranger in your own home... Visit  https://spillwords.com/a-strangers-privilege/  to read the full poem!