FIRE OF MOODS

  I wronged you,           I knew I did, I ignored you,           I broke our creed. I grew weak,           And took a break, I sought peak,           And troubled the lake. You reached out,           But I ignored, You did shout,           While yet I snored. You did pray,           While I was drunk, I was prey,           Unto books and funks. You did stay,           For so very long, I cannot allay,           This burden of wrong. Now I see,           That which you saw, I was he,           So blind to his flaw. I so hope,           That it's not too late, How do I cope,           If this is fate. I have learnt,           A very big lesson, I'm like a cent,           Totally gone missing. Do forgive me,           And have me back, Do relieve me,           From this haunty dark. I wronged you,           I knew I did, I ignored you,           I broke our creed. #El_Magnifico™

  He had no sooner entered the arena, when he caught sight of Smart smiling at him from the VIP section above the roaring crowd. Everything had been perfect since he woke up that morning. But not anymore, as everything seem to feel wrong. The quirky smile that gave away at the edge of Smart's lips was something he had seen before, and it definitely wasn't something good. The last time Cosmos saw that smile, he lost his best friend to the cold hands of death, and he can sense that ambience hovering over him again. As he walked towards the ring, his heart sank with fear and anxiety. He made his way up the short stairs and got into the ring from between the ropes. His intro music  Thunder,  by  imagine dragons  was cut short by the sinister tone of the  Zombie dance thriller  by  Michael Jackson,  and the crowd erupted with cheers and excitement. The lights went out, and a moving spotlight travelled west from the north wing of the arena, where it stopped to illuminate a hooded box

  Terror has taken a hold of me, To remind me of my fear for death, To keep at bay and stay at home, And I must fight for me alone. To live this time is nought but vain, When one lies sick the rest are pain, For none who cares could help to save, For save himself is no more brave. The earth doth quake at survival's call, Life becomes like a funeral pall, The scars of death emerge in life, So stand aloof and face your strife. Shall I live like madness in the brain, And grow weak from the scars that remain, Or shall I rise up and leave behind, The poison that lives within my mind. #El_Magnifico™

  I warned her afore, Of the friends that she makes, And I did even more, Of her fanciful rakes. That sacrilege be to lore, And knowledge be bereft, Ignorance is the harbour, Unto which she cleft. Off and away she flew, To her rake undefiled, Back she came all anew, With her wits well beguiled. For her feathers were shed, And her pride painted red, Returned her with peg leg, In her knees for to beg. #El_Magnifico™ [[Published in "Raven Cage Poetry and Prose Ezine (Issue 50)"]]

(Of bits and bites...) Within these dark crevices, An old music strikes a replay note, On the chords of pain. (Invading forces...) Hostile troops seethes through the narrow crevices, Of bits and bytes, Sauntering deeper into the darkest region, With playbacks of red-slaughter- Where dreams of Dreams, Dreams dreams of horrific conviction, And bodies upon bodies stinks acrid sickness. (Of bits and bites...) When the crevices, Becomes stricken by venoms from the mist of time, Dreary and grimly, To become slaves to the days of yore. Pondering thickets, Of unfair sentences. Re-collections, Whose armed forces Razes the rampart of time, To uncover wounds, In broken images of broken vows and broken ties. (Indelible tapestries...) Never to be forgotten, We yield, When our memories, Becomes bits, That bites our soul. #El_Magnifico™ [[Published in "Raven Cage Poetry and Prose Ezine (Issue 13)"]]

  Stage 1 Stage 2 Stage 3 Mercy Credit: Pen-Play Portraiture #El_Magnifico™

  Look unto the wonders of creation, Perhaps it may not be clear, Every thing that exists, Is for the goal it bears. The trees and the earth, All has its own role, The seas and the air, Whose purpose we all know. The wars and the droughts, The floods and the pestilence, Everything born of nature, All makes its own sense. The power of self will, Has given man a choice, That his purpose he fulfils, Or become a mute voice. What else does life hold, If purpose isn't dealt with? For life would've been sold, To the phantoms of death's pit. Know ye thy purpose, For to it you are bound, Without which you are lost, And with which you are found. #El_Magnifico™

  The 2020/21 season currently sees Chelsea sit in 5th position and 3 points adrift from the top spot on the log.  The early inconsistencies of EPL teams this season had left the league title open for grabs to anyone. But after 8 weeks gone, some teams have found a level of consistency, and Chelsea is definitely one of those teams.  Their signing of quality individual players has bolstered the team quality, and these signings are beginning to yield results. I'd be expressing and analyzing why Chelsea should be considered a Premier league title contender this season. 1. Intense Statement From Transfer Acquisition  During the summer transfer window that just passed, it is clear and without doubts that Chelsea made their intention to be considered a Premier League Title contender very clear, with the acquisition of top quality players, spending over £200million in the process.  Pla yers like: Hakim Ziyech, Timo Werner, Kai Havertz, Ben Chilwell, Edouard Mendy, and Thiago Silva were no

  Thine eyes hides thy fire, That I see no more thy desire. Thine lips lack its crave, That its silence is very grave. Found thee the man of thy dreams? For so is how it seems. My heart is ravaged by fear, Still I burn for thee I swear. Only if thou could my feeling spare, Briskly shall I oust this despair. But when thine hands I seek to hold, It's clear that thy passion has gone really cold. #El_Magnifico™

  This was a battle you had lost three times before, even after you had made great speeches and grand promises. You carried along with you the laymen, even as you rose to the highest point of diction, to outshine your competitors, at every Presidential Debate floor. But it all came to nought, as you lost... again... and again... till your fire began to die slowly on its hearth. This is your lifelong dream, and you're at it again, probably for the last time. The Presidential Debate was a success, just like the previous three before it, and the Presidential Election was just two days away.  You are at your private study, rendering rigorous litany to God for victory yet again... And your phone rang. You opened your eyes, paused your prayer to view your phone's screen, and you discovered it was your Campaign Manager reaching out to you. You picked up the call, and he informed you of an opportunity to discredit your sole competitor. He wanted to confirm if you would like him to arra

  Of what will I call, This folly show of yours, For I can recall, That you live by the moss. Thou fool's quintessence, What gave you the guts, To summon my presence, To hear lo such disgust. You incur my wrath, And with rage I am purple, Whence cometh this brat, Seeking that we be a couple. But weighing up thy advice, My fury is supple, Thy words are thus wise, That our town be not toppled. A count without fear, Endowed with wise suggestions, A count who would dare, Whose bravery is not in question. He who would strive, Without the fear of death, Whose innermost drive, Would shake all of the earth. There's but one person, That fits these descriptions, One whose life is a lesson, An ageless prescription. Rise to your feet, Your wisdom thus amount, That by me you shall sit, As my most noble count. #El_Magnifico™

  I bow at thy feet, My countess and earl, I grovel for I am filth, To the gaze of thy pearl. I fear for my life, For what I'm about to say, But still I would strive, That my heart I relay. I pray thee my countess, To choose thee a count, That when the town be distressed, He'd be thy help to surmount. A man brave and bold, Who would protect his people, That would shelter the cold, And tend to the cripple. One who will love thee, And grant thee an heir, Maintaining thy dynasty, The chain of sweet earls. Behold! My countess, Thou art a maiden fair, All revel at thy essence, For thy compassion is rare. Finding thyself a count, Is never a task, It's a height all would mount, If thy precious lips would ask. If I would suggest, My pick would be me, For I cannot suppress, How I have grown to love thee. #El_Magnifico™

  ...of a gradual waste... ...of screams... I am a season, Alternating, Through spells of rains and drought, Vacillating. I am a sapling, Growing in a drought-stricken earth, That I am without strength, To rise above this dearth. Halt! And observe... I am a woman, Swept  by the direction of the wind, In weakness of no shame, Gallivanting around as a public ball, Wandering aimlessly as I roll from feet to feet, Wasting in the cheapness of abundance, And hearkening to the call of screams, With no meaningful honour. Impatience... A sweetened-sour wine, Intoxicating, And concocting severe fantasies, Of nigh bed of roses, Masking the thorns, Allowing those under its influence, Yearn to be screams- Screams of desolation. Of recurring screams... I am a curse, Refusing to be broken, Feeding on weaknesses,  And strips of puzzles left unsolved. I am the curse you detested, The drought you created, The music of "set-me-free" you sang, I danced your tune and sang along... I am the scream

  There are changes... I have marked a boundary for the past, For old things are passed away... I say a prayer of two parts. That my Will will not wheel me off the edge, And that my bliss miss the kisses of betrayal. But I am a scene, And the eyes that sees me Cannot unsee the naked prey within my innocent eyes. But there are changes... I have marked a boundary for the past, For old things are passed away... Loneliness has become my closest buddy, For we sit and talk daily at the horizon of insanity, With laughter and music where voice is dead and hearing numb. I am a scene, And the scene is a quiet noise. There are changes... I have marked a boundary for the past, For old things are passed away... I have no use for friends, All things have become new, For I have them plenty as voices in my head. #El_Magnifico™

  There are spaces of fire in the realm of men, That burns the soul and scares the mind. I have made my heart a shield, As I walk into this night To court with death and dine with darkness. In this night , There are springs of tears to drink from, And murmurs of silence to hearken to. There are fears that groans like trembling graves, And pain that bursts a feeble brain. They are before me, where I cease to exist and know no grief, For I am the black spot who had ceased to breathe and gone beneath. There are five gods who have made men sick and shown them fear. D                    E                                      A                                 T                                              H. They are a flaming fire each, Coloured in the colours of [D]arkness. I was thought this by the first of the gods. I treaded on in this dark night, For my burden was light and my woes were fed. But I was back again where my walk began, And I knew that I was at the very [E]nd of a new begi

  ..."Rest peace Boss Lady", Fred muttered to himself. He was fully aware that the thirteenth call was her last just before she died. "Me dream, Me must wake up. Me must confirm", he said as he stood up and reached for the TV remote, and there before his eyes was the confirmation news he needed. The murder of Lieutenant Funmi Simpson, and the tears that has welled up in his eyes found its way freely down his cheek. "This real", he said feeling shocked. "Me not here. Me not here at all", he exclaimed as he jumped up and dashed for the door. He was a few inches away when.. "Boooooooommmmm!" The door was blown open and its impact sent him sprawling back across the tiled floor. He coughed, open his eyes and got on his feet. He was face to face with an assassin, and judging from the blood stain on his gloves, he was the same man who murdered the Boss Lady. And he knew what was about to happen. He has been remembering future occurrences since

  "Ring... Ring... It's time to wake up!" "Ring... Ring... It's time to wake up!" Fred's eyes slowly opened to behold the beauty of a new morning sunrise, as the repetitive voice of his alarm clock ushered him back to consciousness. He got out of bed, killed the alarm clock and hurriedly began to get ready for work. In about twenty minutes time, he was standing in front of the large mirror placed directly opposite his wardrobe and just right beside his study table. "Today is great day..." he began saying, talking to his reflection in the mirror. "Me will catch many bad guys today again", he continued as he held up a nine millimeter pistol. "Me not die 'cos me is son of gun", he grinned as he concluded his daily mantra which he had always believed protected him from being shot for the past twelve years. As he stepped out of his apartment, he lost his balance, "Aaaarrrgggghhh!!!!", he screamed with his eyes tight