The Goddess Of Decision
I Many years down the line, "Some fruits or some bread," I heard from my father, "The two will do please," I replied. My lips got dried up as lack of vitamins,, Fruits will help the situation, as bread will also save me from hunger. "No my son" My father replied, "Choose one." II As intelligent as i was in my astute nature, My father asked, "A suit or a shoe," "Can i have both please," I replied, This shoe is nice and will orchestrate my steps, The suit as well rhymes with my complexion. "No, just one" My father replied. III As adult stage crawled in, "A laptop or a smart phone," My father asked! "Obviously the two sire," I craved. The laptop will be of help on academic rush, The phone will also impress Adeola my crush. "No, only one" He replied. IV As a sweet salary earner and my business in line, I asked myself, "A house or a Rolls-Royce?" "The two will be good" I answered. Shelter and comfort the house will give, Perfection and elevation, the car will add. I huzzled and sweat for life, Hmm, no fearless lines for I'm truly Scared here at this junction. V Wirra! The examination of life sitting right on my lap, The tales of my father rang through my head, As i looked front and back, thinking about the decision to take, Nodding my head at karma. Appealing to scale of preference for a conclusion on the altar of choice, On how to satisfy the goddess of decision. . Thomas Oluwatosin ©Fearless Lines
2021-03-24 10:39:35
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Шукати святе в почуттях
Я пам'ятаю. Вибач, я все пам'ятаю. Чому цей біль ніяк не зникає? Час його береже. Мене він, ламає Й душа в нім палає. Пробач за все. Чого ж зберігаю? Усе це лякає. Себе забуваю і душу вбиваю, Та біль все живе. Серце згорає, Розум втрачаю, думки покидають. Ненавиджу це, понад усе. Тебе забуваю. Звички зникають. Віри тепер немає. Кохання вбиває. І допомоги вже не чекаю. Завжди щось втрачаю. Хтось уже добиває, не знаючи це. Можливо, шукала в цім світі святе, Та я не знала, що воно в мені є.
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وردةٌ قبِيحة
و مَا الّذي يجعلُ مصطلحُ الوردة قبِيحة؟ -مَا الّذي تنتظرهُ من وردةٍ واجهت ريَاح عاتية ؛ وتُربة قَاحلة و بتلَاتٍ منهَا قَد ترَاخت أرضًا ، مَا الّذي ستصبحهُ برأيك؟
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