This is not a solace
This is not a relapse
This is not her loosing her guard
But this is freedom

Freedom from a cold hard heart
Freedom to rise above the tempest
Freedom to rejuvenate
Freedom like Mata Hari

-Justice Eberechi

If I'm to choose an abundance of petals
It will be your smile
If I'm to choose a hologram for my kids
It will be your face
If I'm to choose my noir and brightest star
It will still be you .

You whirl my mind
You burn my soul
You shot out my heart deep into the earth's core
As I lay screaming out your name.

If you can brace yourself to the truth of these words
And let them flow through the streams of your hearts
If you can hold on to thy steps just to bring the  chicken home
And silence thy ears to the whispers of doubt
If you can distill thy heart like the waters
And flow in meekness to the real world calling out your name
If you can learn to live for others
And accommodate the blast of barking orders
If you can unlock your "chi"
And direct your path to its actions
If you can shelter strangers in the toughest of the tempest
If you can smile at life's rude call
Knowing it is but for a moment
If you can rebuild the burnt bridges with kindness
And scatter the treasures of thy sympathy afar
If you can answer a friends call at sunset
If you can be oblivious of hatred
And congratulate another's victory without envy
If you can stretch out thy hands to reassure my weary bones
And build me a home of precious stones
If you can answer thy master's disturbing call
And seat at his feet like his lapdog
If you can hold on to the truth
And let trust be your booth.
Then, you my child
Will dine in the table of honour
Wearing a crown
With a mouth full of "thank you" speeches.

I will make you my queen
So you wouldn't have to wait for the next season.

I will build you a home
Without walls, bricks and fancy fireplaces.
I will build you a home within me.
Showering you with kindness
And saving you from darkness.

We live in deeds,
Not years.
In thoughts,
Not breath.
In feelings,
Not figures on a dial.
Life's but a means unto an end. That end, beginning, mean an end to all things...God.
But if man was God,
He'll set fire to the heavens and make it rain volcanoes on us.
He'll feast on our sins, and evenly dispatch iniquities to the ends of the earth.
Like mushrooms, we would be effortlessly plucked into the bags of his hunters, at the occurrence of a mistake.
If man was God,
Grace would be in yonder, and his commands will hurt our little hearts meant to sojourn in peace.
If man was God, he wouldn't be GOD...
but man isn't GOD.

Written By: Justice Eberechi