The alarm clock screamed in my ears.
And i wondered why the dead don't wake up to the same cheers.
I woke up to a beautiful morning.
Not in a grave, Praises to God, I smell no incense of mourning.
O dear Lord, who else should I laud?
Great heavens deserve every bow and applaud.
If I never make it alive, save me a seat in your lovely garden.
Where there's no pain, everything is free, and so charming.
The lord is my shepherd, I'm proud to be part of this herd.
I'm blessed; There is roof over my head.
Food on my plate, never delayed, never late.
Sustenance in my wallet, everyday and every other date.
A wardrobe stocked with clothes, like everyday is a feat.
I stopped complaining about shoes when i saw a man with no feet.
Lord please forgive me for my ingratitude.
Sometimes, i lose my way, my bearings, my longitudes and latitudes.
It is not easy when frustration holds you hostage.
And you catch amnesia during this period of bondage.
one misfortune could make you forget all the blessings.
and you can only focus on the losses and overlook the lessons.
They say do not bite the hand that feeds you.
So every time you sin, can you feel the mercy flee you?
Lord, can i borrow a piece of a mind?
I really need a peace of mind.
Drama's been beating my mind.
like it's the percussion of a drummer.
With faith, my mind is a gold that cannot be mind.
and they say sleep is the cousin of death.
so before i go to bed, i say my last prayer till i go deaf.

I'm at standstill, pondering.
My mind is on tour, wondering.
Touring the world with no plane flights and no luggage.
With no hotel reservations and no baggage.
A tourist with his gentle mistress, conscience.
Perfume rain and reign in the middle of France.
Every whiff is a lustful fragrance.
The only stench I know comes from an expensive cologne.
But not the ones the dead men are wearing.
They say wine gets better with time, but corpses got me thinking... Stench gets worse with time.
Corpses litter the surroundings of suburbs in Syria.
Sirens and firing guns is the only symphony.
There's no art in this town but only the blood spill paintings on the bullet-hole decorated walls.
With pools of blood, gliding on the floor.

My mind is on tour, wondering.
I Roam in the streets of Rome.
caught by the display of bouquets of flowers portraying a euphoria.
And I'm wondering.
why the same flowers in Somalia are a welcome message
only an adornment of graveyards.
Famine plagues them, it pursues their lives voraciously.
Surely, death loves this country so dearly, it's lodged here for too long a stay.
Hunting mankind.
Hollywood is crowded with paparazzi buzzing over celebrity's heads
But in Palestine, it is flies that are buzzing over heads.
Heads of men who breathe no more.
Men who have left behind widows and orphans.
The biggest worry may be choosing which Sebago or Calvin Klein shoe to wear.
Until you see men with no feet.
At the end of the day your face ends up on Instagram.
Somewhere, faces always end up on obituaries.

My mind is on tour, wondering.
Louis Vuitton, Gucci bags and Kashmir scarfs adorn the opulent.
In Vegas, every minute witnesses several walking fortunes.
In Afghanistan, there are several walking coffins.
Funerals are the most witnessed occasions.
Undertakers are probably the busiest wage earners.
And graveyards are more crowded than settlements.
Dubai is flourishing with exquisite luxury.
Somalia is degrading in tattered penury.
My mind is on tour, wondering... pondering.
Why there is so much variation and contrast in the world.
I guess some are opulent to pour some for the poor.
But do we see it?

I believe that our differences in affiliations, variations in ideology and distinctions in culture are to bring us to an appreciation of the variance in creation and nature, that we strive to blend in harmony... That we do not seclude ourselves to an affiliation, that we do not rebel, discriminate and hunt one another... That we see one another as one race - Mankind

Writing is one of my legacies, i might not get a monument in my name but this one of the few remnants of my life that'll remain after my soul is gone. They say that mankind is haunted by the vastness of eternity, how far will my life echo? I do not know, maybe someday proceeding generations will read my words, memorize my thoughts and strangers will quote my name. I do not know how long my work will ripple, but it's my dream that I'll affect lives in a positive way... Which ever way I can.

Regrets awaits any one who makes choices in desperation or one who makes decisions when reeling from a loss.

Whether you seek the truth or it comes to your doorstep knocking on the door, either way it's one thing knowing it and another thing having the courage accepting and embracing it.

Finding an excuse for any act of irresponsibility is probably the easiest thing to do after breathing. And at the same time one of the most predictable responses. After all, an excuse is always at the lips of every procrastinator... The prime prerequisite to negligence.

Sometimes trying to fight something only aggravates it's influence. You may try to deny it, but denial of Truth is not a choice but an impossibility. Attempting to, only makes it more evident. You may try to hide it but surely there's no hiding place in the heart... it's always irony trying to change destiny. You have to embrace certain things... Maybe they aren't absent for no reason.

Isn't the inability to know the unknown a wonderful blessing bestowed upon humanity, that reminds us of how human we are and how great God is?

War

Unsettled dust of confusion and misplaced interests
Are mixing spills of blood with dirt,
Glaives swiftly slash lives,
The innocent freeze and gnash teeth from fear
At the hark of the drumming boots of your legions
And there is no ethereal or comic hero to save them.

What if it were you?
Would you be any more brave?

Now I understand that which my ancestors said;
That your elephant feet in fight
Desperate to win over nothing
Will ail the innocent and blameless grasses beneath them
Wild in agony they wail and are hardly heard.
That portraits a lucent happening
Of the lucky losing grip
Among pale blood stained sheets,
Handless, legless and tortured by vicious agues.

What if were you?
Would you want to expire this way?

Fertile lands are abandoned
Because of invasions of senseless explosions,
Once jolly children have become despondent orphans and waifs,
And some are evolving into naive demons
With persistent hunger and death
Maturing them as waifs
As their ribs show like prison bars.

What if it were your offspring?
Would you have your beloved heir be so?

Mothers, sisters, wives and daughters
Are defiled in all beastly ways possible
When elsewhere dogs are treated as colleague humans
But for these real people no help comes for them
Just endless rains of tears from them.

What if it were a maid of your blood?
Would this love in your eyes suit her?

All this treatment to others makes me wonder why;
A lion’s share of humankind’s dispersed wealth?
There is no cedi tag to everything in this world.
Is it for security?
Even Lincoln and Kennedy fell – fine men riding the cloud of greatness.
Is it a fulfilment of allegiance to faith?
Where is that love iterated by religion?
Or is it just for the fun of it?
O!! You pray there won’t be hell.

People, countless are withdrawn from the face of the earth
Over grains, crowns, perhaps fields of dirt
Or other raw fortunes.
Never shall one own every pesewa.
I try to find the light that wars shine on our lives
And I see bloody darkness.

Learn to be content with your legal possessions.
What count of people in your days have you blessed?
Try to recall, for that is the measure of success.
How many people have you loved and understood?
That is where the wealth of life lies.

Wage war against war and let there be peace.
We don’t want to hear the noise of war trumpets
But the sounds of sheathing glaives
And never receding laughter.

Think of how proud you’ll be
To look back after you have expired;
Of the abyss your children and their children will inherit –
The one you are leaving them.

We humans must not be sightless of the truth that
Time will make our mistakes indelible,
The prices inevitable
And the scares imperishable.

AUTHORED BY KOBIK WILLIAM.

Beautiful Mystery

I love this picture
Like The lovely mystery of the future.
The beauty of suspense lies in the saying "ignorance is bliss".
And until that veil Peels off I'll never know that which is hidden.
It drives curiosity, and curiosity is blissful path to wisdom.
Whatever face is wrapped in that veil is just a vale that reminds me of pearls wrapped in shells.
It is the urge to know that makes patience so beautiful.
And that moment it falls off becomes the pinnacle.
Till then, everything else is like tomorrow.
Only a vast curtain that conceals all that you'll ever know...
I love suspense because I cannot predict.
An interesting feeling because uncertainty ignites an anxiety that denotes respect.
I love this picture because I have no idea...
Oh my word I'm so curious!!
It's killing me to pull down this curtain
To put an end to all this wonderful bewilderment.
Delayed presents are the best in weight.
They say precious things are always worth the wait.
Where is she?
Questions plague my mind? Who is she?
Verily Without questions, answers are redundant.
Precious things are a treasury; hidden for long, hard to find.
But belief gives us the rope of hope
And with hope, persistence and patience have a true meaning.
So I know someday I'll live this phase
Someday, this mask will come off, and I'll see this face
... Being so oblivious to something is special and till you find out is true beauty.
Isn't the inability to know the unknown a wonderful blessing bestowed upon humanity, that reminds us of how human we are and how great God is?

We can't choose to write our destiny. Our destiny is a written script that chooses us... The only choice we have Is being 'good' or 'bad'.

Regrets awaits any one who makes choices in desperation or one who makes decisions when reeling from a loss.

What could be more worse than not having the ability to conceive an idea than having the ability to Conceive one and watching someone else implement it and reaping success out of it... whiles you watch on, in regret of the opportunity that went unattended to.

Envy is an admiration, most usually spiced with an overdose of resentment and bewilderment. Your success ignites their worries and your failure awakes their joy. All because, you're favoured more.

Whether you seek the truth or it comes to your doorstep knocking on the door, either way it's one thing knowing it and another thing having the courage to accept it.

Not everybody will or is willing to sacrifice as much as you did for them. No amount of effort can glue them to a stay, to any loyalty or appreciation. If they so desire, they'll stick that dagger in your back or right through till it pokes out of your heart... with no remorse. And if they wanna leave, they're heading straight to that damn door, nothing will stop them but conscience... But is conscience common or is it rare?

When you start small, they sneer and they jest. But then when you make it big, they're sore and they criticise. 😎

... And I said to her "Your beauty is a blessing and a curse that coincides. Reason why Every chance I get to glance at your stance, it kills my insides. I wonder how you look into the mirror and still manage to escape suicides.
I must protest, no daughter of Eve must have privilege to such a rare miracle.
I needn't a pair of spectacles to view such a lovely spectacle."...
And When I focus, I needn't a camera lens...
Then she replied "true beauty resides in the heart"... Guess She couldn't be further away from perfect sense.

That is the beauty of Time;
The irrevocability of the past; filled with memories and regrets which aren't subject to amendment. The constantly evolving present; where we are tormented by the gift of freewill, chance and choice. And the mystery of the future; where we are in complete oblivion to the events that befall us.

It is not every time that the absence of truth is a lie. Sometimes, the absence of truth is just a concealment.

I have failed so many times, now I am building a bridge to success. A bridge built from the wrecks of failure.

Cushioning one with a lie is more grievous than pitying them with the concealment of truth. it is better to live a painful reality than to live a beautiful illusion. Besides, wounds are meant to heal right? But will a mirage ever be real?

I do not intend to pour honey into your mind, and expose your thoughts to diabetes. I don't sugar coat what I write or what I say. I'm just giving you a path to relate, have access to my thoughts and the way i think.

Everyday walking up to the mirror gets tough, looking into it becomes tougher. Because you realise that in some years to come, that face will never be the same again. And even yet, someday, you'll never get the chance to walk up to the mirror anymore.