Inked Tongue

       He has fallen again! He has done the same act which he swore some weeks back not to do. You see, like a mountain he was so sure and bold when he made that decision but like the roots of an old tree, this habit has travelled deep into his life. He fights day and night to be free of this vice, and he struggles against the heavy tide that is against his resolve but after few moments of progress, he crashes down again.        This has become a vicious cycle; a recurring demeanour that has eaten deep into the fabrics of his character. He gets a breath of fresh air after conquering this beast but his victory only lasts for awhile. Soon the itching and the urges come back ten times stronger. What should a man do when a portion of his life has subjected him to slavery? How can he break free from this unending cycle of self victimisation.          With every passing day comes the hatred for himself, and his self esteem seems...

Heads up: If you ever get the chance to meet the queen of Hearts, don't look straight into her eyes, for that is the first way she steals your heart. Her scent is sweet and mysterious and her smile is mind blowing.  Yes I am a victim because I looked into her eyes. I knew what I saw, Rainbows in 3D; I couldn't take my eyes off her unbelievable beauty, it legit left my mind suspended and I swear I couldn't afford to blink, too scared that she'll be gone before the blink's complete. Oh yes I didn't think of nothing else, practically oblivious of my environment. Felt like the sun casted all of His attention on her, (gasps)or maybe the sun looked into her eyes too; I mean look at her pictures, she's always holding a sunflower. Pretty sure the sun gave it to her as a symbol of whatever...I don't really care. All I want is for this moment not to think of ending, it's not even a request, it's a threat.  Something must kill a man, and I think I jus...

 I woke up today with yet another feeling of bitterness and anxiety wondering where the passion that dwelt in my former self had crawled to. As I sat in deep thought, I realized that I have recently given in to the tear and wear that came from holding on to myself, the struggles that arose from finding victory. Day in, day out, I try to fix myself only to see myself throwing in the towel, the elements that make up my core seem to be in chaos, fear constantly gripping my soul and anxiety making love to my psyche. How do I fit these pieces of me together? This broken mind that has been molested by disappointment and setbacks. Deep down I feel a constant need to reach out for help hoping that peace will be restored to this heart which has been reduced to ashes by the wars that arose in the guise of love. Can healing still be found? Can salvation still be reached? What happens when a land once as beautiful, wholesome, peaceful as Cana experiences a wave of pandemic?  I dwell...