Harsh realities sting.

Grew up without a father figure, so i figured out my father, a liar, won’t beg a pardon on it because am hard and on for the truth, been played about like a choir, so in the memories that once warmed the heart, the melting has began and it’s all fading away, if I’m left questioning as if I had no right, this furnace burns out the melted wax to vapour, loosing all to find the best is an acceptance bitter and less of the sweet, for now until the darkness shines no longer against the light.

Enjoy your lifetime because a rehearsal is not a glimpse you can sight, if you lack in one place, the other can be a fill, fall out and nothing counts no more, for sure it is if you understand that, heard in order to be free you should stop running away, face the problem head on, think of it as taking the bull by the horns, fight and never accept loss, good always prevails.

Harsh realities sting


Self Question.

When you walk the path of self realisation, questions pop up and you’re left with a glance at mind sight, envision walking out of yourself, looking back and asking, who is this guy called by me, rather, better known as me, so it’s logical to say, in order to become your own friend, you should meet yourself again for the first time, like another lifetime spectrum or sum’n of the sorts, it’s commonly known that people disagree mostly over materialistic things, the lust is a curse, just as a lie can poison and the power to rebuke it is within, because you have a choice to use it or not use it.

The ball is literally in your court, will you score or pass it around, create chances against an opposition that’s capable of beating you; will loss be yours if you can win, rise from the ashes, crowded king or queen.

In realisation you find that the truth hurts, the truth shall set you free, the truth is hard to swallow but in all those, bet your weight on the one that’s heavy in impact.

The strings from a piercing reality break down the walls of the serenity in the midst of ones sanity, broken by these, a taunting thats haunting creeps up in slow motion as an animation picture, puppet to the master, slave; victim to the victimiser, only those that understand realise the reality tormented in the person whom is paining.

When sober one is filtered but under the influence one opens a door that leads deeper into a place where open books don’t close.

Clear as black and white, a plead to vision right is a request, will you accept or reject, behind every successful man is the only woman who’s vision guides them to a new height where the shine of light is different, do you think this as right?

Self question.