Broken Instincts!

Broken Instincts!

The beginning precedes every journey to its end, and every bus stop, have varieties in its court. The decision to continue the journey, or board another bus back to the starting point never hangs.

What a life! Where we do things with different motives; wonder why people get stuck when their strategy backfires and they can only but smash their skull, forgetting it’s true intent while it reasoned.

I was once a child, even though I beeped like a baby, but the thoughts within me breeds manhood. So fresh and unbroken my feelings were: those times when a spade never turned a jerk…

…those enchantments at first sight: just as if ‘Yemi’ a girl around the neighborhood, added love potion to my morning pap. Never minding if it would cost a soul, always ready to take a second glance.

Now that I’m a man, the foe of the former anchors the latter. The way I feel towards life is nothing but prejudiced. Pick up a stone, blow away the sand, mix it with moisture and splash a little on the stone.

A mosquito flies angrily looking for a prey to devour, a tired man sleeping with much heaviness entertains him with much melody: The flea, prior to its notorious dancing steps, can’t help but to get hungrier: seems its blood’s instincts have grown cold, as It could only give pitch to the man’s sound and make the room a better avenue for a night club.

It’s a very sunny afternoon for everyone, yet darkness water my feet. Wonder the kind of torch that would brighten up, when the outward appearance looks so much deceiving and no could reason out an insight…

…so delicious the meal, yet sourness makes the tongue so sourpuss. People can’t stop hearing the truth, yes; they often speak their own sides of the story but between this act of listening and speaking, the truths always get missing.

A tree stands alone, yet people call its site a forest. How can we have a desert when the region never lags water a bit?

“if I had known” they whispered, As if they were not told. Hmnn! As if they didn’t know.

A cold draft I felt And the candle began flickering, yet its heat would not do much help as coldy wind never cease to  blow. A cold fever I broke, as though the room heats up. Mystical! I hope the sky don’t bleed soon so that the sagging nose would not pass me away.

The pressure in me is high, they always see me smile but deep inside of me, I sigh! With a sense of relief I want to try but I just can’t help it when the same memory seems to keep the pace…

…I’ve looked enough than required, “leap it”, my sight wailed! “jump it”, my breath followed! Alas! A nail stuck to the tree pulled my shirt! Is it fate; rather the handiwork of hope?

Who’s got the blame for divinity? After all I gave in my all. Mary never got tired of trying too. We had something so even, but the length of time withered the flourishing flower. All I could gain from the love we shared was a twinge! Life!!!

Emptiness has it all, my wholeness! A great liar I wish I was, because deceit seems to be the order of the day; and those that walk in it tends to laugh the best!

I cry my heart out of these thoughts, my eyes became empty from the tears I cried, and then I say to myself… “have I any other bait…have I any other choice…than to follow the crowd?”

…When no instinct is left unpatched!!!

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