DEBT

That day, I was gathering a pent-up anger, long reserved.

Triggered by my ego, I couldn’t just let it go.

I grabbed him by the neck with all the strength I could muster.

“Never in my life would I let this go”.

Silenced to his humble and helpless cry, I was overtaken by Rage.

A few hours later, I was tortured without mercy.

I literary cried all the fluid from my tear gland.

My tear patched voice suddenly disappeared from pain’s claws.

“I forgave you when you owed me $1M: Lies, cheating, immorality,

Murder, rejection, swindling, disobedience, pride, selfishness… but

You won’t let go of the $1 debt: Betrayal”.

We all owe God more debt than anyone could ever be indebted.

…love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst.

When someone gives you a hard time (Like the Nigerian Government),

 respond with the energies of prayer…

TINA

LIFE! AN AIR TIGHT CONTAINER.
MULTIPLE FRACTURES FROM HEART-BREAKS,

SHE GREW THINNER.
 

WITH FLICKERING HOPE'S RAY, SHE SEARCHED

WITH HER CRACKED HEART FOR HER MALTINA.

"I NEVER ONCE HAD IT ALL, NEITHER DID I GET IT RIGHT
THE FIRST TIME.
 

3 BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTERS AND MY MOST ADORABLE PRINCE;
THE PRESIDENT ELECT OF THIS GREAT COUNTRY.

I WAS AND STILL AM... TINA"

YET SHE STILL WAITS

She walks out with her crying baby. Shuts the door

quietly not to awake her tired husband.

Raising her blouse to breast-feed her crying baby,

she noticed she couldn't feel her palms.

Hurting blisters from the previous night in a bid to

have dinner set for her husband.

Tears flowed down her cheeks freely in sad memories

few hours back. She tries to wipe her tears but for her

swollen face from the blows of her drunken husband.

Backing her fast sleeping baby, it was few hours to dawn.

While boiling water for her husband to take his bath,

breakfast was packed, clothing well ironed and shoes

reflecting the halo from the candle flames.

Not a single word of appreciation nor a response to her goodbye.

Weeks, months, years... Yet she still stays

RIPPED FLESH

We both proceeded for the final hearing and the verdict was passed.

Having so much wealth that could purchase an island, we figured it was best for us to go ahead with the operation.

Experts advised about our chances of survival, still she clung unto Pride and I got myself Ego as my mistress.

Tip! Tip! Tip! where the remaining drops from the earlier profuse flow. Gasping for air, we grew pale from the blood loss of our RIPPED FLESH. 

Barely could a third party hear our dying words. Prestige, Power, Position, Politics, People, even Prosperity could offer no help as her Pride and my Ego laughed us to scorn.

Grief, Agony, Emptiness, Shame, Groan, Bitterness, Hurt, Regret, and so much more where included in the papers but we were too hasty to give the papers a thorough scrutiny.

Taking my final breath, I recalled from the sermon on that faithful day... "I hate the violent dismembering of the  ONE FLESH of marriage".

UGLY FACE

Better I were dead than this.

Overwhelming beauty; loads of compassion and splendor,

oozing out from the angel's warm bossom.

Nothing else matters most than her kiss of confidence and

her arousing breath each time i laid on her chest to unburden

agony's load from the head of my aching heart.

Just before I could spell "safe haven" a chill ran down my spine.

it was cold and sharp, piercing through my throbbing heart.
Gasping for my final breath, I battled to get a grip on the ghost of trust.
I died a thousand deaths only to unmask the reality of; the angel of friendship betrayed has an ugly face.

BLURRED

Bleak and dark streaks of pitch darkness blazed to lighten our paths.


Gown of illusion knitted from old fabrics of delusion; we hoist to offer,
only to face demening intrusion.


Demons clothing as angels of light, ravaging wolves bleating like humble
lambs, await the defenseless moments to devour.


Today holds a blurred mysterious puzzle whose solution lies in our heinous
past.


Like a stuck treasure chest thousands of feet in the earth of the deep blue,
so is the past of everyone.


THIS IS THE FUTURE IN OUR HISTORY.

THORNY GRUDGE

My throat indeed was hurting...

PRIDE to large a lump 2 slide down my oesophagus.

Wandering for solace, I was fueled by RETALIATION'S gas.

Slamming on CALM'S brake pedal, I found out I could not come to a halt... RAGE had a toll on me.

Accompanied by a big bang, was the skidding tyres of SELF CONTROL.

Salvaged by MERCY'S air bag, I was placed on the stretcher of REGRET.

Wheeled into the theater of DESTRUCTION, I had REALITY come carry out the operation.

After a period of unconsciousness; REMORSE blazing beam dawned on me.

Hovering over me were the press of FLASH BACKS.

Bowing my head in shame, I adviced the audience; 'of all flowers in life's garden, they should avoid plucking the GRUDGE because of the countless number of THORNS on HER stem'.

LIKE THE THORNY GRUDGE, HELL INDEED HAS NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED.