TOMORROW

It’s vague
Like a thick fog that plagues
Even if tomorrow is near
I still can’t see clear
My sharp focus is nothing but an image that’s blur
“Mirror mirror on the wall”
I strain, but I don’t see anything at all
This paradox must be one hell of a kind
Because I am not blind
Nor have I been blindfolded
Nor has my sight been eroded
But I still can’t foresee
That which is in store and that which befalls me

It’s vague
Like a thick gloomy cloud that plagues
Like a mighty fog in its wake
Verily, I’m not daft
But I still have no idea
Truthfully, I’m quite smart
But my wisdom still don’t come near
Who knows tomorrow?
If you have the answer, can I borrow?
I’m utterly lost in oblivion, I don’t know my fate
Don’t know what the next moment will serve on my plate
My imagination is pitch black blank as a clean slate
Cos it’s very strange
How in a second, circumstances could change

It’s vague
The future is a veil
Yet they still delude us more with silly horoscopes
The future is the only thing you’ll never see in the barrels of telescopes
Nor crystal balls
Nor in the stars, calabashes and cowry shells
Should I ever listen to these fortune tellers?
So they could lie more than door mats and spin me like propellers?
Isn’t Time cunning?
Maybe that’s why soothsayers never see death coming
If they say ignorance is bliss
Then I leave this biz to the one who taught me how to write this
Only the inventor of time know it’s pathways
Let me put my trust in God always

BEAUTY

Beauty

Most often optically subjective 

This they say "beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder"

But most of the time it is short-lived 

Prone to extinction 

When beauty is written boldly all over your face

When they see you, they praise you

And The mirror proclaims it

Even God knows it

But Beautiful faces will change phases

All will fade away like the acoustics of an echo

Decaying with time 

Not like fine wine, but like fruits perishing

Look at the beautiful faces time is peeling 

Look at beauty withering away like leaves

Every year, every other birthday a part of your beauty depletes 

Your Organic Youth is going stale

The years are leaving ageing contours 

The once moisturised soft skin folds into terraces of wrinkles 

That pitch black silk hair will dry into grey matter  

All of a sudden that skin doesn't glow no more 

You were/are once a beauty goddess but not forever

That's the power of time

It clothes you with beauty and then takes it away

You can't fight ageing

Cosmetic surgeries can't hide traces of an old woman of mankind 

A beautiful face is prone to extinction 

But a beautiful personality is immortal 

Inner beauty will never lose purity

Parallel

I believe we are all alike in some way. Most of the time We think the same thoughts. What ever idea you have, someone has thought of it already. Sometimes I see someone doing exactly wot I have in mind and wonder. You can never call it idea theft can you? I believe in parallel destinies, that there are certain people inclined to certain similarities. Never be to proud of 'your great idea', it's all from God!