Living life is like walking in a rush Bush.
Somedays are made with roses and sweet fragrance,
Filled with Joy and laughter.
Somedays we trample over the torns,
Leaving us heartbroken and sad.
Most days are made up of both,
Though the torns rip you
There are some Roses to heal you.
Roses or torns, we were made strong enough to walk on both.

you can't see it
if you don't look  it with your heart
the tears in the picture flow inside me silently
silent screams are unheard
but it burns deeply

the torns of pain

I was a torn
poking into your side
a constant reminder
you needed to get rid of me
but little did you know
I was a beautiful flower
just needing to grow

you threw me away
i found my own soil to plant in
i became that beautiful flower
all on my own

shes the messenger of God
and on her knees
she delivers a message,
slowly but surely
just like reading from a passage

her lips are still warm from
yesterday's prayer though like roses with torns
he collects each strand
with one shaking waver

through her tongue of fire
she mouths the word
of the Lord she left nothing in his eye
but the dirtiest shade of white

alas! it broke from his lips,
the dirtiest little sentence
came out in a white puff of pure ecstasy;

"Oh God have mercy!"

I am calm in my ways
I never react to any disgrace,
I rarely give my point of view
And still I never find a clue.

I am calm to life's surprises
I never reckon presented chances,
I just see everything lightly
To preserve my deep serenity.

I've always been calm and collected
I never mind if I've been rejected,
Neither do failures nor flaws can break
A heart that's always been at stake.

I see to it that I stay calm
I never put my life to any palm,
Mine has always been so precious
Even when the world can get so tedious.

But now I don't understand everything
All that has lately been happening,
Clueless faces and secretive smiles
Speaking eyes, a look that guiles.

Responses can shiver you straight to the bone
Bizarre lines he can never hone,
Sly endeavors of reaching a star
Minding not how hard and far.

My inner conscience's set to commotion
Not even ready for a straight revelation,
When the time comes an iceberg breaks
A smile could be shown by a girl who fakes.

How about the first one to make me know
That life is just a playful show,
Everything could be played with roses and gun
When a problem arises you can always run.

Comparisons are made of which is which
Torns that have been made, how can I stitch?
When all the pieces seem to be badly fragile
Is there a chance to put them still?

Well I don't really mind if confusions linger
All the shocks in the world, I'll never be a receiver,
'Cause they might all get knotted in my complicated mind
These impossible problems and trials of any kind.

Still I hope everything going to be fine
Whoever is that deserving star to shine,
But take note that I never give it all
Always cautious of a painful downfall.

I hear the rain outside
while I'm lying in my bed.
I hear the wind outside
while my soul torns apart.
I hear the thunders outside
and I'm feeling numb again.
I hear the sound when drops crash the ground.
I want to cry but I can't.
I hear the world outside
but I can't be part of it.
So I just listen in silence.
I just listen.

My heart was build of stones
Layered by tons of stings and thorns
Soaking with venomous bloods of red indian scorpions
Pumping through the veins
Once again
Being with me lead your life's adorn?
Trust me, your hopes will die in pain of torns.

A loveable mask
Admirable in all eyes
But desiteful beyond doubts
A burden for the masked
But a hope to smile
And hurts forgotten

A rae view of life
The fear at everynight
To see it's mask fall
Like the hope of a dieing patient
To never see the sunlight again
A single wish in it's eyes
To fing happiness unmasked

A life of rose when masked
A life of thorn when unmasked
Thou reach out for the rose
But behold he holds a treacherous rose
With just an artificial beauty
Which sills thou's heart in internal torture

A wish to turn back time
To adapt to the torns
Which within it is hidden happiness
But thou can only regret
Cuz as time passes by
The treacherous rose fades away

When I was born, I may just have slept
Between a bed with torns and petals
One side beign heaven
The other hell
So if in my sleep, I turn to torns
I may bleed to awake in pain
And if I turn to petals
I may continue to peacefully sleep

I want a white rose
Sharp torns
Long stem
Placed at the edge of her bed
I fell for her sultry essence
Violent love making
Sensual tongue that licked my neck
While her hips ****** against mine
Without shame using the lords name in vain
Im lost for words
She was my addiction i so willfully gave into
We released our anger & frustration within four walls
Finishing with our last deep breaths
Covered in sweat
I want her to awake to that white rose & long stem

I feel you
   whenever my mind perceives    
     thousands of thoughts
I feel you
   whatever my heart accepts
     unending greys and torns
I feel you
   whoever speaks to me
   the way in between of black & silver
I can still feel you
   even I have the guts to put gravity on you.

"Hmmm..."
A snipe of thought that sigh my heart
Breaking the cartilage in pieces
Letting the blood drip in torns
Striping me of my smile
Yet I force out one
That stray off in miles

The loose of her suckling child
Throw a hard blow
Right beneath the belt of labor
The look on her face
The ravishing hope
Her smile that lit up hers
All went out dark

Taste of pain saddles
At the right wreath of her teeth
She mourn in silence
Yet,in distress

When she lay to rest
Ewatomi agonizing scream
Tears her bleeding heart
Her dreams took a mare shape
Either night or day
She would yell out of sleep
Searching all corners and nooks
For the dead bear

Her sanity seems flashing out of her
The pain of labor stung too often
Once she murmurs to herself
Twice she gives out a loud sigh
"Ewatomi".. An inscription
That often ends each sigh

And as for me
Who watched her glow away in pain
And fed from her hurt
My heart filled with mournings
I could only repress mine
To help heal ours

For what indeed could be compared
To the agony of labor
And the wrecking pain attached
To not been able to withhold the bear you gave life
Cos the sailing of death's ship
Had visit with a loud bang...

Yea when times get tough and rough
I knows there's one thirst who's never in a bluff
Talk right to ya tiny bubbles
Take a sip of the forty
To ease the trouble
Visions slowly in aqua boogie
I'm seeing spirits near me
Or maybe it's because I'm tipsy
I tried to kiss a ghost
But couldn't find where her lips be
Gotdamn I'm feelin' gypsy
Drinking slow as my spirit began
To flow manifest my demons
Hiding inside my head screaming
Uh they tag teaming
But I'm just drifting and dreaming
On a bad memory
Scorns and torns from the enemies
I ain't ready to stop sippin
Man I'm tripping got triple visions
Its me myself and eye
Seen my fourth eye glancin the room
Filled with gloom
Gave a me drunk dance to heal the womb
But my room was empty so
Who the **** was talking to me?
Maybe *** I'm too drunk
Or it's my conscious speaking to me
Seems what it is it made sense
My souls got tinglish
Every time I take a sip of the Old English

If we are to plunge sinful deep into the fiery pits;
This room is fully empty imma go with half eyelids;
Ten fathoms deep sullen and angst ridden on the roadway to hell;
With a fist full of soul candy that makes your spirit swell;
And on my arrival I will greet the cereberus with my bag of bones;
Filled with much regrets before I prayed for unforgotten atones;
I will whistle my swan song walking across its grotesque corridors;
While wailing souls orchestrating with me as they try to sing along;
I payed my dues..Well not maybe?but who cares to collect? to come to me;
I have been abused feelings misused the attitude branded my character they see;
Too little too early I am too far young to die;
If you gonna be the death of me that is how I wanna go and that's no lie;
So I woke up wrongly in this ****** up world that torns me;
So let me walk my own ******* fate go ahead stop me and you'll see;
Ten thousand chaos in a heartbeat will rain down on you;
From best to worst art of filleting skin,incisions and decapitations too;
Are you impressed where my words came from so undivine and unearthly?;
Google it quick search! every bit returns a seconds worth of zero query

love is a red rose.
flowing blood came from the torns,
petals falling off.

I am like the bee,
gives you honey,
so sweet but
stings as you
cross allowed boundaries.
I am like
the rose flower,
gives my fragrance
freely but careful
you must be.
I'm not without
my torns and
will pirece your
fingers for
your carelessness.
I'm a gentle loner
just like the scorpion,
don't walk all
over me or
step on me
as if I'm
a weakling or
pick me up
because of my fragile
nature or I'll be your
near death experience.
I'm like the
stinging nettle,
I'll decorate your skin
with my deadly marks
and make you dance
even when there's
no music playing.
And like the
beautiful ivy flower,
poisonous and deadly,
don't ever harrass me
by plucking my leaves,
to feed on
or you'll be dead
in a second.
Stop messing with
everything in sight
just because you think
you are superior.
Even the little porcupine
can chase away
the strongest lion.
Even as i'm tiny
as corona virus,
I'm able to
chase everyone into
their homes and
lockdown the whole world.
All the weapons
fashioned by man
is useless against me.
And woe betide you
if you dare show
your face outside.
I'm as selective
if you keep
and maintain a
social distance.
You must maintain
asepsis by proper
handwashing and wear
your ninja mask.
And when i
see your blood,
i may have mercy
and passover you
by reason of your
bloodtype and immune system.
©2020,Emeka Mokeme.

Though

life's

torns may

entwine and

bleed our

hearts

dry in

suffering.



in full

witness of

God's

open eyes.


asking

penance,


I would lie

down and

surrender

everything

to you,


and shelter

you from

any harm

or doubt

in love..


the giving

is the

salvation


of turning

black

to light.


to see your

eyes

and taste

your lips,


in faith



without

sorrow.


or pain..


to hold

you still,


with divine

intervention


and patience


of giving

everything,


and receiving

everything


in return.

My mother raised me right from wrong,
Saying that I shouldn’t trust a nice gesture.
But somehow the roses you brought,
Also came with a side affect, pain.

The red roses are my favorite,
They are epitome of love and lust.
However, these roses, had invisible torns,
You pricked me, you loved me,
You destroyed me.

Now thanks to you, I cannot trust another rose.
Any love comes with pain, thanks to you,
I now realize this.

I should’ve listened to my mother.

He doesn't belong to me
Because I am a mess
a weird human by nature
He has all these things he can hold on to,
I am like smoke
Broken by the disaster
That is my unsteady nature
A hurricane in search of love
I am
A rose with many torns
I am
A pearl in an oyster
I am
And so he belongs to them
They are better than me
Touchable
Stay-able
I am the wild horse
That falls everybody off her back
But waits patiently to be tamed

clasping his hands
were nothing but pain.

embracing his goodbyes
and listening to his
wrath,
were more than hell,
and lesser than any
mundane pleasures.

but letting go
of those torns
which she once loved,
held, and touched,
gave her peace,
joy, opportunities,
and open heart.

she loved him indeed,
he loved her too,
but,
they were just
a chapter in each other's diaries
and their wisdoms and
memories
both shall live
and fuel
their pens
to write their
own stories.

The old days lapsed in respect, parents and elders enjoyed no talk back policy from their juniors before the coming of the 21 Century where youngsters bury your words before they are spoken.

The naked truth is times have changed. Knowledge then was widely acquired by books and experience unlike lately where puberty aged hunters have gadgets worth plots of land and investments.
The Techno-Generation is as fast a virus cutting through ages, people access internet as often they wish and so they get knowledge from a home bench and at a lesser cost.
The trends are sweet to follow as you learn how to plug into which socket of facts or lies to abide with in society.
People these days dont mind jumping into conclusion of a matter they have heard of for the very first time. Nail you and crucify you on a spot. The torns of tongue spat at issues burns down ideas like solid acid. In a twist of a minute a simple wishper from one person will can either tarnish your reputation or give you a climb over the mountain.
There is more nonsense said but once you get backup media bloggers, your cries of shame can be a hangover to somones tears.
https://thomasbron.wordpress.com/2020/07/30/the-opinion-generation/
#herdsmanofprogress

Love Pain
My sweetheart your tear torns me off
But please don't cry on the matters of the heart
Beauty when touches love has to morph
This is what has to happen from part to part
Love is not pleasure but at times it is fire
One has to burn all the desires to be just clean
What an intoxication what a burning wire
It may be hovering flood at times just serene
My love I love you and I mean it to the extent
Where I may be totally enthralled to flow
But at another occasion I may be in a torment
But rest assure love makes one to but glow
Colonel Muhammad Khalid khan
Copyright July 2020 Love Remains