Kingsley Godstime

Sometimes I break myself into memories,
Of how I pilgrimed on the face of the earth
Where every hearts are apathetic.
Sometimes I break myself into deep fears
Fears of losing this body to the other world
A world where darkness is the light of all
A place where darkness offers the joy of sorrow to the bereaved
But I learnt to live with it not minding the fears again.
Overcoming challenges had been hard
The little and the complex
Life is like an empty page
Waiting for the scriptor or whosoever to scribble on it
The fate of life depends on the scriptor
Whether he scripts bliss or scribbles sorrow
I’ve been written off with sorrow
I’ve died not knowing tomorrow
I have been writhed off without bliss.
But now I hereby scribble myself like the pages of a book
Into the chapters of peace and verses of bliss
I break myself into fragments of felicity
And melts myself to perfect bliss.
Goodbye to teenhood


� Modest King


  1. Modesty his here oooooo, age with grace sir Modesty. sorry it coming me late, but i dont see
    my card and cake oooooooooo.

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