The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword

You raise your thoughts to the highest heavens, even though you are at your lowest. You drink of the wonders of so much written, yet find no merit to quench the thirst that is drinking you up. You hear more words, and see much more evils …

What should be, what should be?

The puzzles turn on and on in your head till your every thought becomes a mass of unanswered questions, much like wires turned loose.

You have stopped watching TV, you have stopped reading the news, you have struggled to leave the world. But somehow, the troubles still get to you. The news you refuse to find, the realities of the time.

You pick your pen to put into action once more that blood that bled so much to create weapons that left everyone marveled. You want to bleed out all the evils that have now become a monster in you.

It flows and you smile, but not for long as you find more of those villains coming to get your people. You discover that your leaders are complicit…

Then you go to Opi, kiss the junction and remember that one who wore the eagled insignia. You pick his mantle and make the sign of the cross.

Suddenly you realize you no longer believe that the pen is mightier than the sword.



7 thoughts on “The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword” by Sueddie Agema (@sueddie)

  1. This should have been a poem. Its lovely.

  2. It’s kinda cool… should have been a poem

  3. @sueddie, this is really realistically relevant. I passionately agree with @mcsnol and @Fadehan because your words were structurally well-arranged and semantically captivating, your words were simply arranged in their best order. Keep on man!

  4. @innoalifa, @fadehan, @mcsnol: Ah, the thing refused to be a poem oh! Don’t mind it. :) Thanks guys. Your words came in handy now. Means much. Working on a short story collection hitting the stores by next month and you have rearranged it somehow…

    1. Don’t forget to tell us when the collection is out… your story was really a story @sueddie. Waiting for the collection…

  5. nice, the last line just nails it.

  6. I understand the fact that it refused to be a poem…those moments of writing where you are swayed by waves of lexicon and wordplay and they get so flamboyant and fail to sit tight in a preferred structure that would have sat as a poem.

    Despite all that, its a nice thought-provoking piece.

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