Democracy’s Hypocrisy

The idea that democracy and freedom of speech truly exist anywhere in the world is an illusion. That is a fact many refuse to confront. Countless people claim persecution in their home countries because they cannot speak freely. Yet when they arrive in nations, they believe to be champions of democracy and freedom, they suddenly fall silent. They dare not criticise the governments of their host countries, although they continue to criticise their own. If you examine the situation honestly, you will find that many Western nations enforce stricter and more draconian restrictions on speech than the countries these immigrants fled.

There are things you simply cannot say. There are criticisms you cannot make. If you do, you risk economic punishment, social exclusion, cancellation or even imprisonment. There are documented cases of people in Western countries being sent to prison for expressing their views. So let us stop pretending that freedom of speech exists in any absolute sense. It does not.

Ask immigrants living in Western countries whether they have ever spoken publicly against the government of their host country. They have not because they know the consequences. Their silence is not freedom. It is fear. They become obedient guests who dare not challenge the system because they know what they stand to lose.

I am not excusing the abuses of autocratic or authoritarian regimes. Yet the uncomfortable truth is that many 3rd world’s leaders who are labelled dictators preside over societies where people often speak more freely than they can in the West. The difference is simple. In your home country, you may be arrested for speaking out. In the West, you may be arrested as well, but you will also lose your livelihood, your reputation and your ability to survive economically. The punishment is quieter but no less effective.

Consider this comparison. Imagine you live with a strict father. You believe he is authoritarian, so you leave his house and move in with one of his friends. Yet when you arrive, you discover that this new guardian enforces rules just as harsh, if not harsher. You cannot criticise him because you depend on him for shelter and stability. That is the position many immigrants find themselves in. They flee one authority only to submit to another.

Those who loudly condemn their home governments fall silent when faced with the laws of Western nations. They know that speaking against these governments could cost them their jobs, their visas or their right to remain. The records are there for anyone who cares to look. Search for the number of people imprisoned in Western countries for expressing dissent, the figures are staggering.

So let us stop pretending that democracy and freedom of speech flourish somewhere else. They do not. What exists is a managed, conditional freedom that depends entirely on obedience. People comply because they fear the consequences of defiance. They know that in countries such as the United Kingdom, the United States, Canada and Germany, there are things you cannot say and criticisms you cannot make, especially as an immigrant. If you do, you risk being sent home or losing everything you have built.

If freedom of speech truly exists in these nations, then why do so few people dare to challenge the governments openly? Why do they not speak against the harsh laws and restrictions that govern them? The answer is simple. They are afraid.

Earthly Tenancy: Episode II [Where is HOME?]

In the previous episode, the questions about the gods remained unanswered. We still do not know where they are, or if they will ever reveal themselves. Their silence leaves us wandering in the dark. So now I turn to a different question, one that sits quietly behind all the others: where is home?

 

Imagine, for a moment, that we know nothing of the gods at all. Imagine we arrived on earth by chance, and our ancestors slowly settled into its rhythms. They grew familiar with its seasons, its beauty, its dangers. In time, they forgot where they came from. The maps faded, the memories dissolved, and the path back was lost. Perhaps we have been trying to return ever since, while those who hold power found it convenient to keep us here, offering stories and beliefs that bind us to this place.

 

So again, where is home? Are we truly from one source? If we are, it seems strange that we cannot agree on where that source lies. Some say their home is above them, somewhere beyond the sky. But what if the sky is only a surface, a boundary we cannot cross? If their home is truly there, why has no one reached it, especially when they claim to see it every day? Who would refuse to return home if they could see it shining above them, promising comfort, rest and peace?

 

Others believe home lies in the afterlife, a world waiting beyond this one. They imagine a place where they will be welcomed by their ancestors, as though returning from a long journey. But what form do they take there? Do they begin again as children, or do they arrive fully grown, carrying the weight of their earthly years? And if their ancestors greet them on the shores of the afterlife, is that not simply a reflection of what we already know on earth, where travellers return to the warm embraces of their loved ones? It feels like a mirror of this world, not convincing enough to make people change their minds.

 

Then there are those who believe that everything ends here. No home beyond earth, no return, no waiting realm. And perhaps they have their reasons. Who would want to return to a home that sent them away and never spoke again? A home that offered no guidance, no comfort, no sign of care. Many people on earth cut ties with their families for far less. So perhaps those who believe in nothing beyond this life are simply choosing peace in the only place they know.

 

But let us return to the question of our source. We know we are not born from the same loins, so why should we expect to share the same destination? Why should someone follow another to a home that is not theirs? Unless they have chosen a new path, as many do when they outgrow the place they came from. And if you truly belong to a place, should you not be free to return without being tested or judged? The idea that earth is a trial to prove your worthiness for your own home feels strange and inconceivable.

 

Most religions speak of returning home, yet none can show the way. How can someone claim a home they cannot remember? How can they be certain of a place they have never seen? So, I ask again: where is home? Do you truly know, or are you holding on to stories passed down through centuries, repeated until they feel like truth?

If you managed to reach a realm beyond this one, would you return to earth, or would you stay and never look back? Perhaps we are travellers in a vast universe, and the moment we step through the door of home, our memories of earth dissolve like mist. If earth is not a place you wish to return to, then where are you going? Do you know the direction of your own longing?

 

Home is a curious idea. I mean the deeper sense of belonging, the place our spirit quietly points toward when the world grows loud. Have you ever paused to wonder where we truly come from? It can feel strange to say we are from one place while sensing we are meant to journey elsewhere.

 

We move through this life as temporary passengers, aware that our time here is limited. Everyone knows, whether they admit it or not, that no one remains on this earth forever. The thought carries a certain weight, yet we continue to rise each morning, to dream, to strive, to build lives that feel meaningful. That persistence is part of what makes us human. We work, we hope, we savour the small joys that come from our efforts

Home, home, home — we repeat the word as though it will guide us. Yet the question remains, quiet and persistent: where is it? 

Brown Envelope [Accepted and Expected]

Brown Envelope, often perceived as a mere noun phrase, holds a profound cultural and historical significance in Nigeria. It is more than a symbol; it is a legacy entwined with the nation’s heritage. The term ‘Brown Envelope’ is synonymous with corruption, a fact that every Nigerian is acutely aware of. It has become a commonplace practice, accepted and expected, to receive a Brown Envelope. This practice is so ingrained that it is difficult for any Nigerian to refuse.

In Nigeria, Brown Envelopes are not just a means of exchange but a tool for corruption, easily accessible to those in power but intentionally given to the masses who have no constitutional powers to question the act. Politicians, traditional rulers, religious leaders, and even police officers are recipients of these envelopes. They are often given during official visits or social gatherings, and the acceptance of these envelopes is seen as a sign of goodwill.

Religious leaders, in particular, often justify the acceptance of brown envelopes by citing religious texts such as “Whoever gives a cup of water to a man of God shall never lack,” claiming it to be a form of divine favour. This makes it challenging to openly condemn the practice without facing severe consequences. 

The distribution of Brown Envelopes is not limited to the elite. Community leaders and heads of families also partake in this practice, sharing the wealth among their most loyal followers. This kind of sharing is often presented as a courtesy gesture, but the reality is that it is a means to secure loyalty and services.

The phrase “turn by turn” reflects the cyclical nature of corruption, where one administration hands over the responsibility to the next, and the cycle continues. This mentality makes it difficult to combat corruption, as it is seen as a burden rather than a problem to be solved. The acceptance of Brown Envelopes is so deeply rooted in Nigerian society that it is hard to imagine a future without it. However, to eradicate corruption, I suggest that the practice of Brown Envelopes should be made illegal, with severe punishment for those who give and accept them. 

The culture of brown envelopes has become a way of life in Nigeria, shaping behaviour across every sector of the nation. A brown envelope, money given quietly and informally, is more than a gift. It is a tool used to silence criticism, buy loyalty, and tie a person’s hands. Once someone accepts it, they lose the moral authority to speak against corruption because they have already taken their share. 

This practice is widespread. Police officers, civil servants, politicians, religious leaders, and traditional rulers all take part in it. Some people even beg for brown envelopes indirectly using expressions such as anything for the boys or anything for the girls. Over time, the exchange has become normalised and almost expected. 

People justify it as national cake, a share of what everyone believes they are entitled to. The danger is that brown envelopes weaken accountability. When wrongdoing occurs, those who have benefited remain silent. They simply say it is only four years, take your share while you can. 

This mindset allows corruption to flourish from the local level to the national level. This is why many people defend corrupt politicians. They are not defending them out of genuine belief, but because they benefit from the spoils of corruption. 

Brown envelope has become part of the culture. It is seen as a normal gesture, a traditional gift, something you give to a king, a pastor, a community leader, or a civil servant. Yet behind this tradition lies a powerful tool of control. Once you accept it, your mouth is sealed, your hands are tied, and you cannot speak against wrongdoing. 

In many communities, when you visit a palace or a leader, you are expected to give something. If you are a politician, this makes it difficult for that leader to criticise you later, because he knows you will return with another brown envelope. Churches also have their own versions of this practice, often disguised as offerings or sowing of seeds. Community leaders receive brown envelopes in the name of gifts and support. 

All of this makes the culture extremely difficult to dismantle. Brown envelopes are one of the root causes of corruption in Nigeria. Many Nigerians receive them, and this is why corruption is often treated like a family matter. People excuse the wrongdoing of those who give them money. 

They say he is a good man, even when he is corrupt, because they personally benefit from him. Eradicating this culture will be extremely difficult. It is not just a habit, but a way of life passed from one generation to the next. 

Laws alone cannot solve the problem unless they are applied to everyone equally, including politicians, civil servants, religious leaders, and traditional authorities but the gospel truth is that there is nobody bold and unbiased enough to enforce such laws in Nigeria without being castigated and dragged by the masses. 

No one should be above the law. Yet change is possible. I once witnessed a preacher refuse a brown envelope in Delta State, saying he came only to deliver God's message. That moment stayed with me. Such moments are rare, but they show that integrity still exists. If more people reject brown envelopes, corruption will gradually lose its power.

Another group involved in the brown envelope culture consists of private citizens who have no political authority or genuine political commitment yet maintain close friendships with politicians. These individuals are always at the forefront of the practice. I describe them as the foot soldiers of brown envelopes because they hold significant influence within their communities. They are well known, they mix freely with politicians, and although they lack the power to steal public resources, they often benefit from government contracts.

They distribute brown envelopes with remarkable ease, almost like rainfall. They function as watchdogs, acting as the eyes and ears of corrupt leaders. Their influence over the community gives them the freedom to hand out large numbers of brown envelopes. 

This is the strategy behind the practice, as it secures loyalty and suppresses dissent. As a result, it becomes difficult for ordinary citizens to criticise corrupt politicians in power. Once these private individuals discover that someone who has received their brown envelopes has spoken against their political allies, they simply cut off the supply. That is how their system works.

The most damaging custodians of the brown envelopes culture in Nigeria are lawmakers, federal and state agencies and the so-called permanent secretaries who oversee the issuing of business licences and approvals for citizens and foreign investors. These officials routinely demand bribes in the form of brown envelopes, and they do so with an air of absolute authority, often threatening to obstruct applications or withdraw their support if their expectations are not met. 

The result is a climate in which corruption is not merely tolerated but normalised. It is both dispiriting and profoundly frustrating that prospective investors feel compelled to comply, thereby reinforcing a practice that has become entrenched at every level of public administration in Nigeria. The persistence of this culture undermines confidence, discourages genuine investment and erodes the integrity of institutions that should serve the public rather than exploit it.

Brown envelope culture is widespread in Nigeria. It is deeply rooted and difficult to eliminate. It has become a tradition, a way of life, and a custom embedded in every sector of the country. This is one of the reasons corruption remains so persistent. You cannot remove a problem when the same people who condemn bad governance continue to participate in it willingly. Nigeria's fight against corruption must begin with dismantling the brown envelope culture if we must move forward as a nation. 

It will take time, perhaps generations, but without confronting this practice, true reform will remain out of reach. For anyone who does not know, when Nigerians speak of a brown envelope, they are referring to one of the most powerful symbols of corruption in Nigeria. It is the seed from which much of the corruption grew and still bearing its soured and tasteless fruits in every sector. This is not a political or a tribal or a religious fight. It is a moral one and it begins with each of us.

Earthly Tenancy: Episode I [Where are the gods?]

Who exactly are the gods? Were they the first humans who happened to display unusual abilities that others interpreted as divine? Or were they simply more advanced beings who, in those early days, had the freedom to call themselves whatever they wished, passing those titles down through generations until they became accepted as tradition, much like many beliefs today? Or could it be that the idea of gods was crafted by clever elders who wanted to control the lives of people they considered vulnerable and easily swayed by the promise of unseen powers?

 

Can one say that the gods, if they exist at all, are complicit in the decay of the very world they created? Would it not amount to complete failure if they truly were in charge of their own creation? Look around and tell me if there is any kind of umpire overseeing the affairs of this world. What we see instead is that certain cunning individuals have taken it upon themselves to reshape this untested reality in their own image.

 

I have been doing a lot of thinking, and the questions in my head feel genuinely valid but such questions could easily be branded as blasphemies by people who would rather react with fear and emotions than allow logic and reasoning a fair trial in the court of common sense. For many, it would amount to heresy to suggest anything that challenges the belief that this world is still under the influence of the gods, which is rather unfortunate. The first questions to ask are these: where are the gods, and are they too afraid to show their faces in the world they created?

 

Allow me to walk you through the first part of the question, okay? Now imagine the earth as a piece of undeveloped land. The gods decide to develop it, much like real estate developers who transform empty plots into estates. Yet developers rarely live in the properties they build. They might visit occasionally if something needs attention, or they send assistants to deal with any issues on their behalf.

 

Earth, however, is different, even though it sounds the same in this context. Its inhabitants have never seen the gods, nor had any physical contact with the beings many believe created this world. It is like tenants who rent a flat through an agency, pay their bills, follow the contract, yet have no direct access to the actual owner. Everything is filtered through the same agency. In this case, the “agency” is made up of religious leaders who claim they were chosen, anointed, or appointed by the gods to manage the estate on their behalf.

 

So, the real question is this, why have the gods never visited their own estate, this world, and shown themselves to the people who have been waiting, hoping and searching for the truth behind this foggy reality that no one fully understands? Oh, they will return at the appointed time, or so the familiar rhetoric goes. It is the same line repeated whenever people dare to ask thought-provoking questions, the same story passed down through past civilisations who also waited, yet never encountered the gods. Perhaps the gods are no longer interested in their estate, this world, because someone else has taken charge. Let me ask you a question, who builds a dream home and then abandons it, allowing someone with no rightful claim to take over and rule it as their own? Does it make sense to anyone?

 

My mother is a poultry farmer and a businesswoman, and there is not a single day that passes without her visiting the birds, tending to them, or balancing the accounts. Even when she travels for church conventions or business, she assigns each of us specific tasks to keep everything running. The very first thing she does when she returns home is head straight to the poultry farm to make sure everything is in order. So, tell me, what kind of gods would create a world, never visit it, and then allow it to fall into disarray under the care of another who knows nothing of its foundations? Or who would begin a project, bring it to completion, and then hand it over to someone else with nothing more than a promise to return one day, without ever overseeing it?

 

Or are we really just tenants here, or even prisoners? And if that is the case, what are the terms and conditions of this supposed arrangement? What exactly did we do to deserve being sent here? Were we forced into this life, or did we somehow agree to it before arriving? And if we did choose this life, is it part of an endless cycle that we have no power to stop, no moment where we can simply say we are not coming back once we have done our time here? Or are the gods simply gatekeepers, standing between us and other worlds, and by keeping us here they maintain their own relevance in the eyes of whatever powers they serve?

 

There have been countless stories about how this world came into existence, yet none of them offers any definite proof about its true origins or what the first inhabitants even looked like. All we have are religious claims on one side and scientific guesses and theories on the other. But if this world really was created by the gods and they once lived here, why did they leave? Where did they go?

 

This is not an attempt to mock anyone’s beliefs. It is simply a search for understanding, born out of curiosity, because nothing in our past or present truly suggests that our world is being guided or supervised by any divine presence. Yes, the wonders of nature unfold in ways that can feel magical, as though she pulls surprises from her sleeves whenever she chooses, but that alone does not mean the earth is under the watch of gods who seem too afraid to visit the world they supposedly created or to reveal themselves to the people who now live here.

The Weaving of Wants [...every thread holds a story]

I might be with a child, she murmured delightedly

Easing out of the emperor's robust embrace warmly

Not sure what her sudden illness meant in a castle

She thought wasn't just her footstool but a vessel

 

She had pictured and assumed the title of an empress

A burden she never imagined would make her acquiesce

To her servant's inconceivable advice to spirit away

The only known heir to an emerging empire on display

 

Fate guided her path to an unbothered committed bachelor

Whose principal intention was merely to be her counsellor

An unsavoury choice she made in a hurried bid to thrive

Where she sought solace just as a bee resting in its hive

 

Her reluctant host inevitably became a person of interest

A quiet man pulled into her orbit against his old precept

An unbowed soul whose light faltered before her presence

And in that shift, their fates synchronised in resonance

 

Like a leaf in creation, their utmost passions sprout out

Undoing the reason that once made them distant and devout

A dramatic turn of events that roused the faintest notion

Where the seed of emotional bond begins its sacred motion

 

What was mistaken for a chance emerged as a divine blessing

A trial forged in silence, now has a warm heart confessing

An undying love, born of hope and honed by seamless grace

Whispering a shift in destiny as it moves to take its place

Dedicated To Everyone:

Follow the thread toward what you seek, and let your deepest yearnings take form.

Who Are You Angry At?

Who enflamed the blaze behind your gaze?  

Was it my opinion or your draining days?

You throw your wrath like shards of glass

But I'm the friend who tends to your scars

I spoke heartily when silence felt unjust  

I raised my voice in solidarity and trust

You asked me to stay out of all your fight 

I withdrew so you could use all your might

 

Now your sorrows wear a borrowed face

Yet I am the mask you berate and deface 

I am not the cause of your aching wound

Nor am I the threads that fate had tuned

 

I miss the real you everyone used to know 

Before your world turned into ice and snow

You were the hub of joy, the light, the flame

Now everything feels like bowing to shame 

 

You admit that I drown you with my peace

That my words make your suffering cease 

I am not the tide that is pulling you down  

Nor am I a cloak disguised as a real gown

 

Who are you angry at, my gracious friend?  

Is it me who spoke the truth until the end?

Or the forked tongue, but with a false face?

So think before you choose who to replace

Dedicated To Everyone:

Who has ever lost the shoulder they once leaned on, the face they once trusted without question, the friend who felt like family, and the place that once felt like home.

mi reina [...a paragon of beauty]

You are a beam of hope and light in a heart mired in sorrow 

A day without a thought of you is an echo in the dimmest shadow

You have proven yourself a million times as a symbol of divine love

A sign that you were divinely chosen and sent to earth from above

I seek your divine and warm embrace with passion of certainty

I promise to adore you from this moment till the end of eternity

Your whisper is the surest nudge I need to roost in your nest

A miracle you alone can give a heart in need of a peaceful rest

I know doubt resides in your heart and it does with great cause

We have come too far to let trepidation overshadow our essence

I shall satisfy your life with endless streams of joy and harmony

And I solemnly vow to meet your needs and other expectations

I humbly request a permanent residency in your imperial heart

That I may resume my eternal duties for its care and support

As the absence of my care could make it grow weary and lonely

So that I may show you true peace and my unmatched loyalty

My heart is overjoyed to seek out your love in this fashion

As we strive to rise above the ashes of fear and utter confusion

Where our love for us is the only balm we need to keep us devoted

As you and I are ready to bound together by our shared principles

Dedicated To:

Women Who Have Won Their Men's Hearts

Marital Remnants [...Crumbs That Look Crunchy]

She was a believer until reality jolted her out of her reverie

She was sleepwalking in the endless when she bumped into you

She thought dreams were meaningless until she dared to dream

She was unsure about what it meant until you gave her a hint

 

He thought your reception had ensured him a place in your abode

He thought his coronation had earned him the kingship in your empire

He thought your interest in his future would make him yours

He thought your resistance was a test to keep him fighting

 

Your proposal was tempting but it was not what she bargained for

Your denials stripped her of her right to residency in your heart

Your act of diplomacy was a ruse in order to manipulate her

Your constant rejections almost made her unworthy of love

 

The emotional pains he endured drained him of his faith in love

Your love résumé was great but your agenda ruined your chances

You had the freedom to explore his life but you chose to exploit him

He thought he made it into your dreams just as you made it into his

 

It is true life goes on but the memories are forever imprinted

It is obvious you could care less but your reputation precedes you

Your heart is turbulent and nobody wants to experience it.

A slice of bread is good but a lifetime meal supersedes a leftover.

Dedicated To Everyone

Just like the ocean, there is surface and depth in all of us.

Intimate Expectations [...They Swing Both Ways]

I am not a wrestler, but my take-down is smooth and cerebral

I don't have claws like a lion, but I will pin you down and feast

I am not a pilot, but my flight to Cloud Nine is a one-way ticket

I am not familiar with your time zone, but my ride takes time

I know you like fruits, but my nuts are way tastier and better

I am not a hunter, but my appetite for your steak is unquenchable

I am not a solar system, but my vitamin D will help your immune system

I am no aquaman, but my plunge takes me to the heart of the ocean

I am not a farmer, but I'd love to plant my seeds in your garden

I am not a masseur, but I perform miracles with my hands

I am not a carpenter, but my hammer knows where to hit

I am not a woodpecker, but my tongue will make your flower bloom

I am not a fisherman, but my bait will make you swallow my hook

I am not a footballer, but my shots on target are better than gunshots

I am not a clergyman, but my mission is to ordain you a missionary

I am not a politician, but I always honour and fulfill my commitments

Dedicated To Women

An illustration of men and women symbiotic dalliance!

Character Flaw [...A Blemish in Perfection]

I have come to terms with everything life is, embrace it and move on

I have had a fill of things that are bitter and sweet but still insatiable

I have carefully sharpened my mind to explore all there is and beyond

And I am no longer afraid of what nightmare there may be in my sleep

 

The future keeps slithering away no matter how close it seems

My mirror makes me look beautiful but my youth is disappearing

I have become broad-minded about the inevitability of tomorrow

And my challenges have made reality my most reliable companion

 

My circumstances have unlocked the doors of unimagined worlds

I cannot help but drown my worries in the pool of my failures

The other me is conspiring to trade positions with the real me

My doubts have left me wandering in the emptiness of this world

 

My unchecked desires have driven me to the edge of uncertainties

I am not shy to wear my scars as they are a reminder of my struggles

I cannot keep up with my disguises except for the ones I can manage

I feel like a stranger in my own body due to my never-ending priorities

 

My dream to take a grip on all fictional constraints is still a mirage

I no longer blame my heart for accepting what makes me feel whole

The old vow has been severed and I intend to proclaim a new one

And what began as a whisper shall be known for ages still to come

  

Dedicated To Everyone:

Your IMPERFECTION is like a SNOWFLAKE in a SNOWSTORM.

𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽 [...𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗'𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚗

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜

𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎

𝙰 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚎

𝙼𝚎𝚗'𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛

𝙰 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚗'𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢

𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚗'𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢

𝚆𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝙰 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢

𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗'𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚢

𝚆𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢

𝙰 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛

𝙰𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔

𝙳𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚘 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚆𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗!

  

Covid-19 [...The Uninvited Guest]

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘺

𝘛𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥

𝘉𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 

𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯

𝘉𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘸

𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘶𝘴

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘶𝘴

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘴

𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱

𝘈𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘨𝘨𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘶𝘴

𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴

𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘴

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘴 

𝘈𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥 goes 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥

Dedicated To Everyone

Our journey did not start with covid, nor shall it end with it - we will overcome!!! 

Intimacy [...Same Currency, Different Rates]

You know I admire your agility

Just like a thirsty fluffy bunny

In search of a midnight memory

Put together to make you happy

I smile every time you moan

It is hard to leave you alone

Amid the delight in your cute eyes

As I lay calm on your warm thighs

Your nails rouse my entire mind

My body finds it easy to unwind

A rare touch that is one of a kind

I'm privileged to have been affined

Our encounter was not an accident

And our story is an alluring content

Of two lovebirds with a single heart

Destined to be forever and not apart

Should any soul search for our history

In all the countless centuries yet to be

They shall all marvel at our untiring ways

That our love lasted past our dying days

Dedicated To:

Everyone With A Purple Heart 💜

Under The Blanket [...An Aura That Entraps]

I have lost my ability to pretend

In the name of potency to depend

On my invisibility to comprehend

A woman so curvaceous to unbend

Her smile soothes my frayed mind

Her hips are lusciously designed

Her innocence leaves me aligned

And her kiss makes me entwined

Her squeeze restores my trembling

I coo like a baby in her cuddling

Her breath refreshes my thinking

And I always long for her blessing

She's got a view that's irresistible

A shape like hers is irreplaceable

Her bosom warms me like a fireball

And her manner of love is above all

I'm yet to be enthralled by another

Even though I have tried to smother

My attempt and desires to slaughter

A piece of the bounties on my altar

The gods themselves are now jealous

That my romance is too contagious

Which is making everybody nervous

Of what they believe is propitious

Dedicated To:

Every Woman Who Has The Charm To Keep A Man Elated

Bags Of Hope [...The Carriage Never Ends]

The market looks promising but a vicious terrain

It harbours the most unloving handlers in the game

They move around but lurk in every portal and page

Waiting for those they see as down-and-outs to use

The employment ladder is such an avalanche of crap

Designed to give false hopes and promote rivalries

A glitch that has made everyone a subset of a system

That keeps workers busy and desperate for survival

They belittle job seekers in service of their own greed

Like cheap little puppets before they even get hired

They bad-mouth new intakes as if they have no worth

And then flutter their egos like a drenched rooster

Most wounds are left in the ashes of constant confusion

Hoping for a timely collision to make peace with the pains

Of a pursuit to tell a better story of misery and triumph

So much so they endure to enjoy the fragments of hope

There is more to illumination than humans can fathom

Many are comfortable in the dark than to be rejected

By the hands that throw a switch and darkness looms

Wondering when their nightmares would come to an end

The shackles are finally off the untamed beasts

The most feared predators are now on the loose

The toothless preys are searching for safe havens

And the hungry hunters are praying for a lucky day

Dedicated To Everyone

The Situations Are Different But The Reason Is The Same.

Distance Beauty (...The Inverse Of Reality)

He laughs and whimpers every time he sees them

Spreads his hands in the open with his eyes closed

Glides and then wobbles like a three-legged animal

A caricature he describes as a gesture of attention

She on the other hand researches all her targets

She hates to sleep with one side of her bed empty

She picks and strikes where her trade is unknown

A feat she describes as a mirror of self-persuasion

Although the desperation in his eyes is barely fragile

His fruitless mission is to own and build them a home

An offer that has been denied a thousand times over

By the same hoochies he meets every now and then

She gives solace to quench the thirst of hungry loins

The very thing she sacredly vowed to keep from lions

Has created an identity conundrum that is acceptable

In her eyes but uncanny to her cronies and outsiders

He's still at large with his eyes on the empty trophies

Begging his incompatible angels for an ocean of time

To reshuffle the same cards that are currently in use

As his days of hunt-and-devour are over and done with

Now that she's taken her battle where she can see it

She gossips those who once sought refuge in her nest

A premeditated tirade to discredit everyone of them

When the secret of her conquests finally comes out

Dedicated To Everyone

We All Have A Beauty That Is Still Blurry To Many