The seed of my fall
was sowed when in small,
certain twist of fate,
both were working late.

Papers flew to frame you wings
while a hunger pulled my strings,
and in the blues of your gaze,
did my heaven and hell blaze.

If we conceive of a presence
captured perfectly
within our trim theology,
we forget ourselves.

He's true to his word,
but too big for a book
that fits in our human hands.

I’m an atheist but with people
I don’t believe in anyone that creates gods
or that responsibility
that is cleverly left for dead

You'll find Him in the house of prayer
and when wondering on the road of sin
in your future, you'll find Him there
He was with thee where you've been
You'll find Him in thy realities
And even in thy thoughts and dreams
He'll see thee through fatalities
for He hears even thy silent screams
He'll be with thee in the battlefield
weeping the innocence getting killed
when thy enemies draw their swords
He'll  be an invisible armour and shield
You'll find Him on the knot of the rope
of hope, convincing thee not to stop
believing there'll be a better tomorrow
when you're drunk drowning in sorrow
He'll be with ye in thy desolation
when incarcerated and in isolation
At thy departure till thy arrival
He'll be thy comfort and survival
for He says He came for ye sinners,
to turn saddened failures into winners
When thy faith is but ashen embers
because ye feel nobody remembers
He'll lift thee higher for He's salvation
An answer to each and every question
Ye just have to ask and thee shall be given
knock and doors open, repent and thee shall be forgiven
Seek and thee shall find, He's one and the most kind*
When thee breathe He'll be the breath in the air
He's with thee right now... He's everywhere

Death is the act of becoming.
Death is the act of birthing.
Death is all that is, creation;;;
And destruction.

Death is love.  
Death is hate.
Death is neutrality.
Death is chaos.

Death is order.
Death is truth.
Death is real.

Only death is real.  

Death, death, death.

Only death is real.

Death is life.
Death is gateways.
Death is magick.
Death is G-D.
The Lord is life,
Thus, The Lord is death.  

Death is endlessness.
Death is the spiral.
Death is forever.  
Spiral. Spiral.  Spiral.
Death is deathless.
Death is holy.
Death is Shiva.
Death is Allah
Death is *******.
Death is Om.
Death is Jesus.
Death is Roman Empires fallen.
Death is the earth fallen.
Death is trees fallen.

Only death is real.
Only The Lord is real.
The Lord is death.

Death. Death. Death.
Only death is real.

Life is illusion.
A testing dream for death.
Death is a gateway to Divinity.

Only death is real.

"Being an introvert in an extroverted
world can absolutely be difficult."
Came across this on some blog.
Think it's more complex to be a mediocre, an extro-intro or an intro-extro...
you can't go all out... you won't remain all in...
you're doomed to be in the twixt. Yet the middle is dangerous...
The middle of the Ocean is the deepest, the middle
of the jungle is the riskiest... the middle of the garden
of Eden doomed an entire race...
for its existence... no driver would drive freely in the middle lane,
most run to the climbing lane soon as they see it.
Some say the Earth is trapped between Heaven and Hell...
maybe we're a compound of Paradisal elements and
the rumbles of the Hades...
the pawns in the Chess between God and Satan, the Jobs in the bible of now...
I'm a Junk of all trades & I'm afraid being in between trades makes me a master of non...
I know too much and yet I know nothing... I am an extro-intro...
I go out only until the plank starts to swing the other way...
I go out until I sense the cold and quickly run back to the lukewarm
betwixt for the hot is as fatal to my kind as the cold.
Am not an Author and neither am I a poet... Am a "Poether'' or an "Auoet", Am not philosophical neither am I Theological...am "philological" or "Theolophical".
I'm trapped at the equator... I'm neither an Eskimo nor an "Antactico"...
Not Ugandan nor Kenyan... Tanzania can't claim me
but there's yet to be a concrete East African...
maybe I'm African.
My point is some people think the middle is safe...
but I believe different. it's my opinion if you want to be a piglet be one,
if you want to be a puppy be a puppy for its fatal to be a Pipet or puppet...
both are instruments... even their use is similar.
My tragedy is am in between, am a mediocre, a pother,
an opssimist, a philothopher, a ctranger or say "Ukantan".
I'm just there... Don't be caught in my place...
find a place to belong... no matter how dangerous and risky...
always choose where you lie...always strive hard to find a prowess...
Go past the lines for History remembers those who are unique...
whether for the worst or the best.
Be the last if you can't be the first...
*Everyone will remember Mabirizi for he knew how to be the last...
And sadly everyone will remember Museveni for he's good at keeping his place.
Who will remember the one in between.
Who will remember Besigye? Who will remember the servant boy that
cautioned Achilles against fighting the Thessalonian?
Who will remember me?