Most recent post

From Statues to Sentinels

Image
  From Statues to Sentinels Narration You know, I never thought I’d find myself in the heart of this mega-city. One night, wandering through a hidden park, I discovered statues that seemed to be alive. Among the sculptures is Sir Cedric, a knight whose marble exterior shines like steel. He believed he was the protector of this marvellous city.  The protector of threats long gone and those yet to arrive. I had the moral purpose of showing him what the world had become; somehow, he showed me the courage to dispute it. Together, we faced a rogue state that threatened to tear our freedom apart. At that moment, I realized that history and the future combine to restrict our ambitions. Sometimes, enemies come in the most unexpected forms. With each challenge we forge ahead, there’s always room for opportunity, especially amidst chaos. And with a new opportunity, a new leader assumes dominion. Nu Jazz https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCrxQKZRnAka3dliF7lp1-Ow Description In the heart of a mega c

Godin Defence: Why can't everything just stay the same?




Life promised so much but little favour came my way.
And over this vista of nothingness I claimed what is mine.
I waited for all of the promises and yet none did come.
Others more fortunate gained splendor, but splendor was not me.
And I gained self respect on other's misfortune.
But your misfortune is not of my concern.
Count your blessings and rot in your tragedy.
Yes it will end in tears should you trespass my den.

I do not travel,  my miracle is here.
I remained close to my heritage.
This colonial might.
This is God's country, he gave it to me.
I will deny you entry.
You are contagion, you are far less than me.

There are trees in my backyard, insects and lizards.
Rodents scamper at my feet and bats by my ears.
My dog is obedient.
In silence we sit.
Impatient and anxious , I do not want change.
In dark moments I tend to my spite.
With bottle in hand I seek like-minded.

A good  man I have been.
I have done no wrong.
My house is clean.
My garden is tendered.
My lawn is mowed.
My animals are fed.
My hatred is strong.

This is my patch, it's where I belong.
This is my home, you are not welcome.
This is my country and I trust no other.
Why can't everything just stay the same?

Popular posts from this blog

The Boardroom Knight

Delicate Water Lillies Bloom

Im Missing Out and Wide Awake