In Our So Called Existence

Our existence in this world of differences

Differences that makes us who we are nonetheless

Beautiful, fruitful, painful, antagonising

That is what these differences are

These differences that completes our life cycle

These differences that turns us into our own angels and demons

In its’ unfairness and fairness

Well, what few of us think

But never really questioned the sole purpose of this existence

It has been generally unfair

Life questioning has been abandoned by fear

In our so called existence

In your so called existence

In my so called existence

What will happen after the questioning

It’s still life that gives us our reply

Pleased or not with it

We are still under its web

Damned us into its own choice of punishment

That which we are not ready to accept

Well, that is one definition of humans

I became a god when i asked question

I became my own angel and demon when i provided an alternative

My punishment, i am ready to receive in good faith

That is why i am not just human but a god

The kingdom gone

In pain and tears

We came up against our most reliable foe

With our uncertain ally

All because of our mustard ego

Enough to become a continent when it is all grown

Where will it find space to grow

If not to conquer our foes and ally

Greatness, we thought we could achieve with love

But made a fatal error in forgetting

That its shadows is its only weak point

Exactly what dynasties and empires did to become irrelevant

So did our mustard ego

We turned our mirror inside out

And made the template our guide

Only to be disappointed at the end of the conquest

Even the gods did not know if it was a conquest or a contest

All these is far gone

No more judgment to face

What step can be taken after defeat

Unsung Blacks

Our greatness will be discussed

On a round table by our enemies

Even our future generations will give them hands

Only to be defeated once again

All because of their arrogance

And unbelief in our acts of bravery

We remain undefeated in the face of Alexandra the great

Forgetting that we are the David of our time

The Alexandra of their generations

The Solomon of our past

We made them the believers of our prophetic parades

They become our Saul and Jonathan

Their victories will become a facade

Their defeat will be disgraceful

All because we are the undisputed

The undefeated

We are the generation of the past, the present, the future

All fused together to become the blacks

We brought in every shades of colour

And made it into a beautiful and songed colours of generations to come

We are the deamons of your entire self and generations

We are your shadow..

Battle of the defeated

In this life that is filled with highs and low

We were bought into this magnitude and glorious country

Always a giant slayer in all ramification

Our race was all encompassing

With all shades of black known and unknown

Brave to the point of death

Zealous even in the face of defeat

A mother so blessed that its insecurities are too visible it blinds her children’s aspirations

Our desperation is conditioned to our philosophy

Our ailment can only be cured by our vultured and not so enigmatic culture

Our disturbed past never laid foundation for us

They erected the building on a sloppy rock

So sad how we are enjoying their misrepresentation of fortune or wealth

So optimistically pessimist to the things that occur in our environ

We will keep on fighting as to leave a trace of our battled thoughts in history

Only not to be appreciated by our masters

Why this era of great failures in all ramifications?

Failures not as educational failures

But failure as beings of the highest grade of pottery

Our deamons are to be released as to block our prayers from the path of the angels

But angels are never responsible to our request as we are all condemned for being blacks

Only question that remains to be answered is

Why are we left alone in this cruel environ to fend for ourselves from the beautiful and evil phoenix

Knowing fully well how great our enemies are

How it goes on its own conquest riding on the wind’s infallible wings

Our deities are never as powerful as theirs

We will never back down

We will soar high in our defeat

We will appreciate ourselves in our defeats

Our defeat, not yours

Why are we running

When we all look back at our live
We discover there are the good and bad times
But fail to admit that the bad are really disturbing
And the good are graciously not up to standard
We disagree and agree that life as its plans for us
We don’t have a one sided decision about this
See its play in this
Life has judged us in its own way
Not caring about what the outcome will be
What remedy do we now have?
Our goal is almost coming to an end
Our desperation is reaching a sky high
Our story, what the future generation will dwell on
Now, we are being taken back
Our generation is to thank
Rewritten the faults of our past and future
Our future has a way out now
Still this is the question
Why are we running?

Now, even in my sleep
This is what comes up
Disturbing my glorious and lovely rest
Why are we running?
Don’t have a mind of an agreeable being
But this is all I can say
Commoners don’t believe in your heroic future
None of your past present will we follow
Acts of disdain we all have
You have played a role in our destruction
History will tell of your commendable roleplay
Time will remember your misfortune on our existence

What still comes up is
Why are we running?
Our minds moves in different direction
Trying to run and escape the flogging of the upcoming war
When the question replays itself
Our deities are present during this time
Waiting to feed on our replies
Our daemons are making glorious gestures about us
Answers to this is still not definite
But heaven is not helping
Mother earth has abandoned us
Frustrated with heaven and its roleplay in this
It was never our choice
Heaven is the sole originator of this
Our decisions never count
Our only hope is to continue running
Death will be the end of of the race.


As I pierced my sword through the wilderness
I came to a sad realization about my Goliath
But that was all a misconception about my moses and Joshua
Your age was a glamorous Barak
Your beauty was that of great Esther
Your brilliance was a beautiful battle of Israel and Philistine
Your eloquence was a glorious land of Israel
All showed your victory as a born Solomon
But your ego, I can’t dare to David
I distanced myself because of my Saulish behavior
I shadowed my ego because of my Samsonite heritage
All thanks to my quick realization about my Deborah
Even my Jonah thought still haunts me
All because I don’t want to end up like Jonathan

Tricks Of The Mind

Peace and serenity
All so difficult to achieve
Its comprehension is way beyond human reasoning
Its effectiveness, way glorious than that of death
Or so humans think
But this has been achieved by my lord justice
Its lasting effect has been put on my timer
Thoughts of life and death, love and hatred
All come rushing through my veins
So similar to that of a new discovered iron ore
Only to be interpreted as dangerous for my well-being
Heaven’s or my mind, which is playing tricks on my mind
The greatness of humanity is all bound in this typical periods
We become our own great philosopher
Only to be destroyed by the outbreak of warlike serenity
Only after a short period of peace

mass upliftment

Party to what
Everyday deceit

Organizers of self destruction

Parabola to mass condemnation

Low lives talent show case

Eggs falling from the rich tree

Sovereignty full of lies
Domain of our animalistic preachers

Economically powerless parallel to their self righteousness 

Mindset out of this world’s control

Originality of our sense of belonging

Critics’ to this sense, living prey

Rationally delve round

Accreditation out of this race

Technicians of our great existence

Insanity the soul errand of our purpose

Commissioning our graveyard before our birth
Powerless power for the people

Aggravated wealth in sickness

Rodents of mass giving to the poor

Tailors of our great demolition

Yards of our mass mourning aren’t enough to console

Inane Reader

Listen up everyone

lets salute our inordinate father of no Child
he who has a mind which no one has ever seen
in history or in future
this we can graciously say amen to
he knows what goes on in everybody’s mind
the thought you have
well, so he claims
but nobody to corroborate his attestation
make himself god who has no good in heart
he is the replica of the good Samaritan
so the world thinks
not until in one of his journey
taking his son on the glorious walk through life
relating to him through his psychic ability
This he claims no one can ever rival
and here it comes
help me father?
I know you can hear my prayers
and his response, the most hilarious in history
tears rolls down his saviour’s cheek
the pain in that response made him the weakest on earth and in heaven
guess what my people?
I am that man whom was his saviour
and the man you all fear returns from his journey no more.