Dance of sin.

Salvation to most people is, staying away from sin. We are born of sin but it is by the redemption of the blood of the lamb that we are made new,of no sin. Desire as the bible says gives birth to sin which in return results to death, though the products of sin maybe rewarding for a while, whatever is got  of sin whithers and just like dust disappears without a trace. 

Sin is a pest that out of desire you invite in, it pleases you, eats you slowly with a smile to a point you get soaked in so deep, then your thoughts become one of a lost sheep, one that thinks its beyond redemption, a walking corpse. So to sin you dedicate your body and destroy your soul. 

To shear a sheep you have to give it lots of food. todays Christianity can be viewed so, in sin you get more, and more you want, the devil gives you lots of food, you grow big and so are those around you,then a time for shearing his sheep comes, and you become one with the lost, awaiting slaughter.
There is no extend to what sin can make us do. Look at the story of Herod and John the baptist,it is out of the desire to call people to the gospel that John questioned  Herod about marring  Herodia his brothers wife.  That was all kind of sin from sexual sin, to perverting to hatred, for you cannot tell me Herod’s brother took it lightly, it went  as far as to murder in the most in human way.

How long had Herodias wanted John out of her way? The erotic dance then, presenting itself to her,do you think the devil had no hand in that? That conniving lier knows well to present a good opportunity , you think he doesn’t  know  what you love? If its money he shows you where to steal, come to sex he provides lots of chances , ladies keep coming your way,men shower you with praises, the devil knows well how to haunt, he then blinds you from the truth making them that enlighten you the enemies, they become church people, pretenders, judges, when all they simply do is call you to the truth.

By sin of  no sin John died, he died for doing good. In the same situation someone else would have beautified sin ,smoothened it giving it the colour of gold, sparing life but condemning souls, and probably getting something of it. Don’t find pleasure in getting blessings from sin. 
What happened to, we live by the grace of God , by faith, by believing in a better us, by trusting in his will,good thing  we are given free will, i say, if its sin, soak your self in it and reap from its fruits, if its  God live by him, like there is nothing else you got to do, don’t leave us confused of what you are. in a group of zebras try not to be coloured, different.

Choose the dance you want to be good at,don’t twist your legs trying dance both dances.  A chameleon has never been known to walk faster for it has to adjust to each and every colour, explains why the hare is faster, think about it.

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Game of love.

I know not to write of love for it is pain i see. Hypocrisy, deception, and a game of want.

For its what one wants one plays to get. There are seekers in this game, genuinely good persons who seek for a true story, but the true players  don’t play to win, they play to get what they want, leaving the seekers on the look out. 

I know not to write of love, this game of showing of. What have got to what you’ve got, lost in between are those that got nothing. 

A game of popularity and age. The eye is blinded to what it sees,the soul packed aside to not feel the guilt,and a thrown conscience to not feel how wrong it has become as long as the body gets what it wants.

My hands knows not what to write for my mind will not participate in this lie, my heart feels for love for its slowly fading, scared of what tomorrow is gonna be. Scared of writing of pain and tears, of a seeker broken by a player who gets not crushed. Scared that I’ll be no more wise in the knowledge of a true love. Scared i will join the seeker in finding that which is being pushed to extinction. Scared that the seeker will not know true when they find it. They’ll not tell a lie from truth.

I know not to write of love but speculations, what if,what is, how is it going to be. 

“When hurt in love,take it as a lesson learnt and if ever its a repeat,walk away no matter how much you think you will loose, do they not say that if its yours it will find its way to you? Don’t hurt you and keep on hating for what you may do to yourself. “

Beaten.

​How can he walk with his head held high? when shame has visited his home and redicule is his doorknob? How can he make them understand when they don’t listen? How can he speak without glances from them of good deeds? How can he tell them that the son’s they call righteous are birds of the feathers and they all flock together?
He can’t. so he wishes for fate to make them understand. He builds up an imaginary world. A garden of Eden with no serpent to make him fall and be of sin. He wishes they would fit in his shoes for a while. He creates a world with less harsh judgement. He wonders where this species that never fails came from.Them that know how to judge. 
A man has to live his life though. He got to clear his deeds with his Maker.He knows this though, A rock rolled up hill  can roll back to the man pushing it, just as Karma is a bitch.

Wrecked soul.

She learnt to see with her eyes closed, ignore what the heart felt, she listened to reason,gave in to challenge,  paid attention, close attention that she became wise enough to know when to walk away, making an iron wall around her, but she never knew that her heart was growing cold, that her humanity was drying up,  the what that made who she was faded, she became cold and cared not, she was a lost black sheep, whose shame showed no regrets, worse she began to love it,for it was the only way she could avoid pain, so the good in her she buried, and deep into the darkness she walked, only light bright enough to wipe her history and re-write her story would rescue her, only a past so dark would show her the light, only that which was impossible, a miracle.

She feared not being a walking dead, for it was a clear fact that no one mourned her, it was time for her to be free in her own cage, a cage she could control, in her darkness,with her cold heart and lost part of her, but was there stubborn pieces of goodness that could be salvaged?  Was there a light so strong to save a lost soul? Was there hope? Was there?

My theory of pain.

I have a theory, in a moment of impact, intense repeated pain, its fear that creeps in, and in pain you find pleasure, in that moment you wish for a change but then, its just a repeat for over and over you’ve been there, you just wanna let go, so in that moment, you wish that you would just forget, amnesia, but is it what you get?


Shh-I beg for silence. 

I want silence, but the whispers are too loud,

How do i open my mouth, when i shiver from the sight of that which terrifies my heart.

 Am sure it was a “hallo” that escaped my mouth, but why am i getting a, “its okay,you run along,see you around,” reply? Its crazy how my heart makes my body do that which the heart wants. Is maths this complicated? Someone please tell me why do i keep count of the good nights, see you tomorrow, i noticed they are too many in a day,  how do i count every word over and over? 

Over and over, re-reading my text, the whispers say that i have found me in someone else. I want silence, to think of what she said, the old lady, i was crazy she said, she wouldn’t understand how one would laugh out loud by looking at their phone, i couldn’t agree more, ain’t  it what this fire makes us all, crazy?

I want silence, to fantasize in peace, to feel the butterflies, see the roses, to close my eyes and see that face, oh that face that gives me sleepless nights. To sing in silence, there is fire in my heart, to argue and make up, silence to have this dream, to live in this dream, its a dream, don’t wake me up, if you do, if you wake me up, be one in my dream.

Standing accused. 

​                                

Accused, criticized,over looked, you stand,

Crucified,abused, humiliated, their fingers pointed to you, their voices louder in their heads, the eyes telling more than the hypocrisy in their mouth, them of no sin, you wonder who made them judges.

Your fears, shortcomings, your voice, you, they that live not their lives, they have made  you a judge over  your life, in your moment of despair, pain,  loneliness, insecurity, you saw your flaws, you became aware of the inferior you, then you judged you. You forgot about you, you lost yourself. 

A revelation, you became aware of you, cared not for adoration or acceptance, closed not your eyes, in a vision, you become  a goddess, you put on your dancing shoes, the beautiful dress they had judged, your hands  raised  and with no care of what the world thought, you danced your way to freedom. You cared not, they called you crazy, had they not smeared mud all over you already? They had done their worse, you expectations were less.

 The dance, never stopping, you danced in their heads, their lives, around them, before them, across, on them, them who had judged, it pissed them off, hate chocked them, they couldn’t stand it, they watched and with every step they had nothing more to judge, it amused them, too much that they judged themselves. 

They covered their loud mouths, lowered their eyes, walked in silence, solitude and fear of who they had become.Shame had invaded them.

You beat the drums, set the music for them to dance, but you cared not if they did, on and on you danced, only a few understood,but the dancing never stopped. 

 

Alone Loner

Am falling in a deep hole, too deep that I have given up help,

Dark, so dark that it has swallowed my will, afloat i go,my eyes closed,

This little space is suffocating me, it got my hands tied up, my eyes closed and my ears waxed, how is that I’ll ask for help, desperate,depressing, deep and deep i fall.

How is it possible when they all are watching, smiling at me? I need help.

Do they know i need help? Do they know their smile hurts me?

Oh,  are they stepping on me? Their toes are hot, the pain. 

The pleasure, tell me now, why am i finding pleasure in pain?

Ain’t this been too long? Someone please, i need out.

Where is that light at the end of the tunnel?  Am falling too deep,

Can someone rescue me? No, I forgot, there is a heavy chain around my neck, 

Where is the knight in a shinning armour? Get me that, or a dragon to breathe fire, to burn it up,

This hole needs some smoke, a signal to tell them, am still here.

Am relaxed,  feeling at home, am i making good out of a bad situation? Oh, the whisper, “it all gets better.”  Its soothing me, sending shivers, what did it say? Is my mind playing tricks? 

The higher power, its working,  I believe, I trust, but I need more light, oh God, dear Jesus, you got me?

Please rescue me, am still here, falling and hoping, my going down this hole, is my ladder to going up.

The dance to my song.

​I said,I crush on one who crushes on Adele. 

He then put up a post,” I crush on Adele. ”

I giggled and thought to myself,  I wish i was her, 

I wished out loud, then he said, “I have found one who is Adele.” 

And something magical happened,  in a place where nothing ever happened, 

I become one with Adele, I sang but the tune was too high, so it broke my voice , 

I crushed the cords and the music was no more sweet,the heels were too high, it disappointed.

He saw no more Adele, my voice repelled him and my songs he hated, no more applause, I pushed him rolling in the deep end, it was no more someone like me.

Then i realized, I couldn’t catch up, So i stopped, did it crush me? In tears i read, I become inspirational, until the day a passage talked to me, it said ” if they care,they will stay, you’ll not beg or change you for them to.” So i took the desperation,the begging,the pity party,the mirror me that I had adopted to please him, smeared all that with paint and made a new statue, one that i named me.

The heels fit and felt comfortable, the music, my music felt so sweet, the glamour and applause felt right, I took to the mirror and the smile was infectious, I didn’t know of a laughter so magical, my world, my paradise. I pleased me, and adored me, i become me, i crushed on me. 

So i wrote, i crush on me, 

He put up a post, ” I crush on Mary.” 

I sneered and thought to myself, ain’t it too late, I sympathize with you, just like Adele, you will crush, but it will be just that, crush.” 

I had  thought out loud. The tables had just turned.
In all you do, sing your song, how wrong it may feel, how irritating it may sound, how scary it may feel, how bad your voice may be, sing your song. If they don’t love it, love it, once you love it, they’ll love it, if they don’t,  it ain’t your fault that they are deaf?

Love, 

Mary.

The tale of the story teller.

I kept on wondering, why is it that i couldn’t write, not fiction, not real stories, nothing , i agree 2016 wasn’t really my year, it really did weigh down on me. It was a rough one. I can say, i understand why they say life does hit like a bitch. It took me a while to know why.

Feel me here, have you ever felt like you are drowning? That your hands were tied up, eyes closed and mouth  zipped? That you were being chocked up by your own mind? Thats how me not being able to write felt like, i just couldn’t  draw my inspiration, whatever i wrote felt lame and out of sense, until i realized, i was more than what i was made to feel.Thats right, it all started when i lost certain people in my life, first my grandma(may she rest in peace ) then someone else. Just out of college, no job, everyone else making it but you? I felt lost. So lost to a point that i wrote, “i am drowning, i need a life saver, am choking from what is supposed to save me, i give up, and hope the waters take me afloat.”

Being rejected, loving the wrong person, unrequited love call it, thats something we aren’t always ready for. It takes your will to do the things you love and before you know it, you miss out on alot of things. Yes, it killed me, what’s  worse than killing someone’s creativity, what’s  more worse than knowing your shadow is probably  better than you are, that you couldn’t get the one thing that most people can.  

Do you ever look back at some situations and wonder how they ever happened?  Situations that can make one aware of their flaws,that clouds your judgment, that opens doors for weakness,  what a broken heart can do. Dwell on a past that you really know it can never be, put something on hold for you are grieving, forgetting that life has to go on. That a heart got to feel what it got to feel, and some things we just can’t help but accept and move on.

So i realized i had to unclog that which was holding my mind captive and admit to myself that i was hurting, broken  and grieving and i had to let go, to accept that it did happen to me, that i wasn’t the first nor the last, that life just happens, once i did, i wrote

I wrote on my regrets for not writing, i wrote an apology for being me and for my heart not being captivating enough to capture a love that felt so wrong, i wrote an apology to me for being so caught up in a fairly tale land. I wrote a song, that i didn’t  want to let go, that i tried to fight hard, that i had to stay away though my heart was beating for him, that i was sorry he was hurting, trying to understand  if it was pride or just me that pushed him aside and that i hoped for a come back, of a healing process, of wishing for karma to take revenge  to moving on, to finding me. 

I wrote of a new found confidence, i wrote of new friends, laughter, tears, i wrote of a love song. I stayed on long nights to unwind of my tales on paper, i wrote of the things i couldn’t say, of a crush i had, of how afraid i was that that garden i was eying for had a owner. 

I wrote, my heart out and my mind was no more clouded, the tales of a story teller, and on and on she writes.