Friday, 30 March 2012

Purpose Mingled In Destiny




I tried my best to view the past with the periscope of the future
the thin line between success and determination was obvious.
It would be an assumption to bury this thought in state of thought,
because the future can only be viewed from its application

Just imagine that each day was a passing wave of emptiness;
then tomorrow would be filled with a gapping hollow.
But since each hour of earth’s complete revolution
is not designed to conform to the same series of events and activities,
A repeat event subsequently might only be very similar but not exactly the same.
It is therefore evident that life presents an opportunity
to mould and remould, correct and dissect;
in fact life in itself is the apparatus that controls every action
pre-empted, concluded or being processed per time.

Can we then say that we are the architects of our own tomorrow?
 Then where is the place of purpose in nature’s control of events?
What will happen when nature takes its rage on a purpose?
Should we assume that man must manipulate his course of action
to fit into nature’s coloration of destiny?
Eventually some things will be shaped to fit a perfect design
whilst others will conform to the will-force of nature’s creation.

The solution to this dissonance remains in the power from within;
deep down where the mechanism for every action is constructed,
like the onion within the onion of the onion in an onion bulb.
Each day is nourished with the thought of how yesterday’s events
will affect today’s assignments and how the summary of both
will determine the unknown. That is the place of purpose in man’s destiny
or we should say that it is the effect of destiny on man’s purposeful living. 

Death


In the midst of the tunnel, blackness,
In the shadow of the mist, hollow;
Cracking of the calabash, shock!
Whining of the wolves, sorrow

Sadness! A water coloured in iodine ink.
Paralysis of the feet and cracking of the skin:
Walking through the forest, a battle with the owl,
Walk all day, work all night; sleep knows no peace, peace sees no sleep; Sickness!

Why the disinterest at the sight of a new dawn
Or closing the window blinds against the outside world?
It must be the wizards within, biting the intestine
The heart begins to shrink and liver deforms. Numbness!

Death! An inevitable force and reason for the pain,
A kangaroo in a cockroach bout, punching mercilessly
An unfair mafia, inevitable poison to the soul
Indeed, those alive smell the pain, but those in its web never live to tell the tale. 

Thursday, 1 March 2012

Another New Year



365 days of surprises, yet mingled in its own suspense
52 weeks of gains, big wins, yet not devoid of its own losses
12 months of celebration and jubilation, yet covered in times of sober reflections
1 year of triumph and the same year coloured with its trying examinations

It was a journey through the unknown
A path treaded in faith yet sometimes in fate
I belief that the end would be great, yes great
Eventually, through it all, was a peace like no other known

Today marks the end of the worst life ever
This moment births the beginning of the best life ever
Another new day, new month and new year
March 1st, the beginning of the greatest achievements encountered

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