My mind is full of questions
Questions that questions a lot of those questions even after they are done having me questioned

A lot of questions running through my mind till am feeling my state of mind is becoming questionable

Am I a fool called Wise or a wiseman who has just been fooled cos he thought his mind is full of wisdom while it is otherwise?

Still a lot of questions

Questions questioning some people's actions cos it seems my trust is now being questioned

But who said I can't be trusted?
If so, why put in my trust something which is in your trust but turn around to doubt my trust?

You asked how do I know?
No, why won't I know while I've got the spiritual nose to know this things long before it is physically known?

Still questions

Questions surfacing even while I write cos some parts I still wonder if they will be read right or if it is even right for me to have them written?

But why care about whether it is read right or wrong when I have the right to write what I wish to write?

Questions on what to title this piece with but my mind is not at peace with this questions so I won't give credit to questions till maybe when am totally at peace

So don't ask me why not "questions" but "state of mind", cos state of mind it is for now as that is my state of mind

Am drawning in my sweat yet no one can see my works
So stretched to a tear but none can see my marks
My eyes are red and dry but deep in my heart I cry

Awaiting us in the heavenly places is a joy like a river which knows no bounds

O what a peace it shall be to our souls cos tasting this we shall weep no more

Weep no more
We shall weep no more
Weep no more
We shall weep no more

Just keep this faith which can never fail
And weep no more
For we shall weep no more

If you're right, write
Even if you're wrong, write
If you're free, write
Even if you're  busy, find time to write

Write cos it's your right
Write cos you need no rite to write
Write cos you have the ability to write
And that's enough to begin to write

Write when it's boring
Write when it's interesting
Write when it's indescribable
So in any situation, just write

Write the past
Write the future
Write the real
Write your imagination

What you write will remind you
What you write may inspire you

So I write...
Just write

Till the day man goes to his eternal home,
Up and down this world he continues to roam
Frozen by the cold rain in the night
And warmed in a sunny day
Till the day air can no more seesaw in and out his lungs
He remains in the battlefield to make a way
A path his successors should find easier than he had
The bruises of a pathmaker must he incur because of a desirable future for his descendants he fights to secure

For the visionary man knows that
To make a better tomorrow
He must live like today is a borrow
A stuff not t spend on luxuries but to be invested in order to look back at and use as the foundation of his success storeys

Let the torn have her pound of flesh
Let the stones have their own next
As far as the skin is not taken away
The scars will only be the witness of the way

On and on he moves the success road till he sees that something improves

If our father's had remained in Babel till our days
The rest of the world would have been left a thick forest
A place crying to be discovered
So as life remains in the body of man
The task of getting the day's job done must he man
And that remains the plan

Where life exists, there hope is found
So we are down but still around
With enough strength, we're off the ground
Dennis Rodman; we will rebound