Baskadia

My own prison

In shadows deep, I find my way, Through endless nights, where demons play. A heavy heart, a weary soul, In this abyss, I've lost control. The weight of sorrow, like a chain, It drags me down, inflicts its pain. A silent scream, unheard by all, In this dark place, I start to fall. But in the depths, a glimmer, slight, A tiny spark, a feeble light. Hope, a fragile, distant gleam, Guides me through this haunting dream. With every breath, I fight the storm, Though weakened, I'll transform. For in my

KESSY 🌹

A little summary about a friend of mine 😅🌹

Cry, it's never a Crime

Even if cry last for the night,joy cometh in the morning

King Of Love

The poem emphasis basically on how love feel to human being and how is important to human being

My Mother Has A Photo Album In Heaven

My mother doesn't read books, she reads people who read books. like she read my cousin who was pregnant at 16 because she tasted lemon dewdrops in early sunrise and the bittersweet experience of motherhood never left her palm like a written note. my mother could read fever just by placing hands on the forehead of her child, you could say she was the MOM in therMOMeter because my mom never kept us in a room temperature... to say, she didn't want us to get spoilt, she tightened up every corner tha

"Whispers of the Unseen Tapestry"

In realms unseen, where dreams take flight, A tapestry woven with celestial light, Whispers of stars and secrets untold, A symphony of wonders, yet to unfold. Beneath the moon's ethereal glow, Where time stands still, and galaxies flow, Unveiling mysteries, both strange and rare, An enigmatic dance in cosmic air. Ethereal beings, with wings unfurled, Guardians of realms, ancient and surreal, They navigate through dimensions unseen, Where imagination reigns, vibrant and keen. In this realm of bou

The Message

She observed the movements And tried avoiding some things. She tried running very fast But they were more faster, She tried fighting them off, But they were more stronger, She tried hitting and kicking, But all to no avail. She watched herself helplessly As she was torn apart, She cried helplessly as her Cloths was torn, She wept thoroughly as She saw herself defied, She even fainted in the Process of her being defiled. She tried walking home, But found it difficult to do. She kept crying as she

New Month

July, oh July, a month so bright and fair, With sun-kissed days and gentle summer air. The world is lush, with greens and blues abounding, And every sight and sound is so astounding. The birds sing sweetly, in the trees and skies, Their melodies a joy to all our eyes. The flowers bloom, in fields and gardens too, Their vibrant hues a feast for me and you. The warm sun shines, with all its radiant might, And fills our hearts with pure and endless light. The days are long, and full of endless fun,

Guiding light

Amidst the chaos, we find our way, In the night, we seize the day. In every moment, a chance to ignite, A spark of hope, a guiding light.

A shoulder to cry on

A shoulder to cry on A shoulder to cry on is better than gold, In dark times  it gives energy to go on. Lights that were turned off  will be turn on while it comforts like a mother to new born giving hope and erasing pain of what is gone. A shoulder to cry on help you to mourn providing company until you set on new dawn. It understand why you cry and what you lost. It doesn’t intent to show off hence it never fall short and comes from the least expected with no cost.

A Dancing Fire Within: From Silence to Excellence

"Within you lies an untamed spirit, a spark that yearns to ignite the world with its brilliance. Embrace the flames of your passion, let them dance and illuminate the path to greatness. With unwavering determination and relentless pursuit, transform your dreams into reality. Remember, you possess the power to create change, to inspire, and to leave an indelible mark upon this universe. So rise, embrace your destiny, and let your extraordinary journey begin."

Words

Like an infectious disease at bodily opening floating inside like aromatic scent at nostrils, that is how the sound wave travels through ears processed and integrated in the brain and words manifest. Once altered cannot be retracted so they manifest. Like a virus in the system  emotions are corrupted. Leaving the permanent mark through the thoughts, doubt and worry are some of the output and proof, depending on magnitude in input reflects output. Like radiation harmful words are poisonous. To th

Sunrise

Remember when the sun rises, and how beautiful it was that morning, It started to soar higher, to meet its delightful beginning. But not for us, have you forgotten? the daybreak knows why we parted, and how we ended things between us, It was the ending that got me unsettled. As much as the sun knows most of it, It is aware of my fear and shock, however, I understand myself more deeply, for it doesn’t know how much I want you back. So when the sun greeted the morning with joy, and welcoming it to

"Celestial Waltz: The Northern Lights' Delight"

A Poem About Northern Lights

There was a country

Once! There was a country That held hope for her people Whose leaders were the youths role models Whose people were the most disciplined Whose military were the nation's pride Whose students were the nation's erudite Whose economy prospered and flourished Yes! There was a country Whose neighbours were envious Whose citizens were contented Whose environment was friendly and peaceful Whose military strength, Was nothing compared to her neighbour's Yet she was satisfied and happy There was a countr

KINDNESS

A gentle touch, a kind word, A simple act of love, A helping hand, a smile, A heart that's full of love. A hug that warms the soul, A kind deed done in haste, A gentle voice, a kind thought, A moment of grace. A kind gesture, a kind heart, A moment of peace, A moment of joy, a moment of hope, A moment of kindness. A moment of love, a moment of care, A moment of understanding, A moment of compassion, a moment of grace, A moment of kindness.

#SEASONAL POETRY

OVERBOARD CHAOS AND REVIVE

SATURDAY

A narrative poem of how my Saturday-morning went

You Are My Home

Home is not a place but the one we cherish.

Give Your Black Boy A Flower

Your black boy Is a garden of stumps, his heart is rooted out of a fertile ground for you to plant a dream on his Humus skin. he Is a machine Void of human language. He understands solely, his breath on your skin and the sweet nectar of your pineapple lips. Again, he is an illustrative painting of your dad. He watches you grow Into his arms like sweet alyssums sprouting in early winter as he lays on your flower bed nurturing his lovelessness into something. And of all that he deserves... the ros