Tuesday, July 16, 2013


Look right,
Look left,
Look right again,
These are laws I don’t bargain to gain,
So go ahead and run me over

I stand at a dangerous round about,
Broken fallen signs scream and shout,
Or is it to mumble,
Hearken damsel,
You would think I would heed such doubts,
Or my pastor’s words worth pounds,
He calls it lust,
The morning after it corrodes worse than rust,
Whatever dark shadow on my way you have cast,
It heavily clouds more of my future past,
So just go ahead and run me over
Ram me,
Slam me,
Just go ahead and....

Come morning I will be three doors down,
a torn heart for a yesterday’s body pawn,
a soul as empty as a ghost town,
Fear shall walk into my own wake,
But still my heart argues it’s for my own sake,
Damn it! 
My mind hates my heart,
I would look right,
And right again,
But these are laws I don’t bargain to gain,
So just go ahead and run me over!

Tonight I will surrender like a pet,
A slave with a master’s debt,
Only one picture in my mind,
How your stare paints me naked,
Your handsome face chains me for the forsaken,
And your dark complexion makes me lose all my bets

Look right,
Look left,
Look right again,
These are laws I don’t bargain to gain


…The end… 

......all rights reserved......

WARNING: This piece is neither written to condone sexual corruption nor reprimand the same in any society

Monday, June 3, 2013


Cracking the silent airs,
They scream voices more than a pair,
We will not seize to care,
We will not halt at the words; be fair,
What is fair?
She closes her eyes,
Lord, let them go away,
She cries,
Stop it!
She slowly but fearfully drifts back to her pillow,
She prefers to look up,
And is all comes back to her,
Odour of Friday night,
At the stadium she was a she knight,
She had fans,
And yeah was fun,
But that October,
Too much bang,
The month she scrapped off her calendar
She had killed her!!!!
Cracking though the air,
They scream more than a pair,
She holds the pillow between her ears,
Stop it,
Please stop it, Lord!
But it isn’t Him,
It’s the other side,
It is her spirit,
Creatures of the old religion…..
…present day…
New Doctor “who is she?”
Nurse “Sally, 38, brought herself in 15yrs ago”
New Doctor “ Ahuh”
Nurse “she claims to have killed someone”
New Doctor “who?”
Nurse “herself”

The end…all rights reserved

NOTE: abuse of drugs is as harmful to your mental health as much as to your physical health


She draws her curtains,
Rays on sunset break in,
It is time to gloom,
Sweep the streets with her witch broom.

She can see the town lights,
Finally the days has let in the night,
For her, the day has just started,
Boards of bills to be darted

She turns on the shower,
Drops of hot water give her power,
But she tastes bitter fears,
It’s her own tears

Why do they flow bitterly?
Didn’t the three shadows agree clearly?
That this was the only way to suffer,
The gains of money and power

She has no family,
The cold streets fill her events diary,
For six years this has been the trend,
Lonely wasteful men are her friends,
Daily bread

Her class has improved though.
Its way earlier than yesterday she shook dirty paws,
Of the dogs that had no tails to wag,
On the way to become the pole scag
She shivers; she hates to remember the days of the rugs

Now at the arena she is queen,
An angel with no white wings,
She prefers puppet strings,
Others satisfaction is her fruition,
Her prison, wasteful men admission

Church women object her mission,
Don’t they know it’s the oldest profession?
They whisper that her name is unwritten,
As she is wicked, a fallen star that glisten
And she shall not arisen,
But for repentance and forgiveness

Back to business,
Tomorrow she may need to change banks,
When the rates have sunk,
But today is yesterday’s tomorrow,
Shroud in speculative fears of pitiful sorrow
Fears of if she will ever invest what she borrows

She opens the door,
Out into the cold silent streets she goes,
Her day has just started,
Boards of bills to be darted

The end…all rights reserved

Warning: this piece is neither intended to encourage prostitution nor condemn those who are practicing the same

Monday, May 6, 2013


I have heard of many a stories,
I have read of you in the books of history,
that you are a religion with a wicked mission,
to rob off a peoples vision.

Then i found it even on the internet,
that celebrities are the fish in your fishing net,
with fearful whispers they call you Illuminati,
one of the old serpents cult.

They say you write them fat cheques,
when in with you they check,
giving them perfect CVs,
this i saw on TV
then you take away their lost lives,
bills for bloody sacrificial knives.

Ye ungodly fallen angels,
hark to a voice not feeble,
that the Lord is my Shepherd,
never will a leave for your herd.


all rights reserved

Note: this piece is written in the light of the Christian faith, however it's intent is not to judge nor discriminate other worshipers

Thursday, April 11, 2013


A run with the devil for miles,
more of a dance in white on red bloody tiles,
Innocence closed my case files,
Yet the guilt on guilt pile on piles
How did all start?
Dare I stand beside the board in a game of darts?

Tomorrow is freaky game night,
And it does not feel close to a fight.
A poisonous flower,
Rituals of the queen on a high tower,
She brings it closer and lower,
To her wicked nose of power

(Drum beats)

Tomorrow is game night
I hated games, right?
Games of the dead never end,
Not even on a ritual marital bed
Scent of a poisonous flower on newlyweds,
Bare skeletons on empty heavy legs,
Today is game night
It will never feel close to a fight

..The end…all rights reserved

Warning; this piece is written to encourage faithfulness in marriages by covering the root of the same- fornication and adulterous practices before marriage