While the oceans tonight

Croxt:

While the oceans tonight waved and bid their goodbyes, the tears from my lazy eyes filled a cup. I have witnessed before many ships sail and I have seen less come back. To give you give without expecting return. At least, that's how we should teach to give. Because in such blindness do we find blessings. But the oceans know my name. For I gave it to them. They carry it above the waters and tell it to the whole world. They speak of me when they relive a moment we spent together. That's why people cherish memories. But if it's glue I'll stick around. You fight some of these things and they tear away a part of you. You don't want that. So when the oceans you found a friend in decide to leave your shores, send them away with a message. And your name signed at the bottom of their hearts. Names. We identify differently and each to their own name, we build up the rest. So before I rest, remember to send the oceans with your name. They will speak of you. It's all that matters. Even if they speak ill of you, they've found time for you. So bless those who bless you and let the wicked burn in their own fires. Dance to your own tune and sign your name on the sandy beaches. You know how sandcastles are homes we see ourselves play in. As little Princes and Princesses. With all around us. And we create streams that flow around our walls and gates too high to be jumped over. We have watchtowers, to see who approaches our Kingdoms and the lighthouse directs our lost ambitions back home. Huge Kingdoms we built all by ourselves. People become invincible like this. Untouchable. Ego over the roof of our heads. Because we like to be better, better than everyone else. Those better ones are the ones who get the most praise, anyways. Then, to compare is a human disease, I must agree. Because we all love knowing who deserves what. One thing I know for certain, we all deserve to smile, at least. All of us. Because even to the sad man, happiness comes once in a while. We were not born to suffer. So far, that's what many people are doing. We were born human, to be there, to care. To love, to protect. So if it's a shame to help those who are less fortunate than you are, then the shame will live in your eyes. Open your eyes of love and your mind and ears as well. Not everyone deserves your energy. You'll know when to give it and why to give it. Yeah. Everything has a reason. Just why when the oceans tonight waved and bid their goodbyes, I wished them well. I reminded them that I would be there on the sandy beach if she ever came back.. even if the sandcastles I had built might have already been wiped away by mistake, by me, by the waters of the wave or the wind, or by the bully kid, a couple of sandcastles away from mine.

The day freedom comes calling

Ladies and gentlemen, 

I stand before you, not because I am the most learned. No. I do not stand before you my fellow countrymen and women to steal the show and claim the presents of your hardwork, the fruits of your sweat. No. I stand before you because in me dances a happy tune. I am delighted that these winds today have brought back our prayers. The songs we sung on the fields have been answered. The lashes of the mocking whips on our bare backs have started to heal. The waters of our rivers are getting clearer, for our blood has stopped flowing in their stead. The clouds have started to scatter and the darkness is at bay. The sun shines our way. We had prayed for this day. When brightness would come and stay. And I pray, that the days of the enemy stay away. May the sun never leave and may we fight to protect our shadows. Our children. They will learn of the days when we hungered and we will teach them to be grateful. To be watchful. Because we smile today unsure of tomorrow. A kind of an awkward smile. Half-happy, half-worried. That's where our thoughts bite the hardest and chew the longest. When we worry. But if it wasn't for worries, how would we have fought to reclaim the freedom we once did not know we needed? Or even possessed? It takes the fear of theft to be worried for your possessions. And, somethings are just too valuable to easily repossess. We have lived this story. We have shed our blood for today. We deserve it, we have suffered long and hard enough for it. 

So, tonight we bless our forefathers as I pour libation unto them. I bless the hills, they have shielded us from the evils in the east and famine in the west. I bless our sons, to always be fearless and to discover life for themselves. I bless our daughters, to always bring life into every situation they find themselves in, to build and not destroy, to love and not hate, to care and give a home to every soul that seeks one. I bless everyone today, that their actions may continue to be meaningful and well-meaning while at it. That we may be less harm to ourselves and empower each other. Spread the love, my children, tomorrow is another day we have been blessed to see, free.

Anything you want

I will save you the hustle and simple frustrations.

I will cuddle your mind and kiss your desperations.

I will cover you in warm blankets of love

and care, and love, and care.

I will be there. 

And anything you want you will get.

I will protect your happiness 

and defend your joys.

What kills you will build you

and your fear will make you stronger.

You will drive my passions

and you will be my ambition.

As long as you have me,

baby, you will need no other.

And as the sun goes down,

I will travel with it,

I will embrace it and I will shine for you.

You'll lay in my hands and I will make you stronger,

you will drink from my cup

and I will fulfil your fantasies.

We will lie to sleep and you will dream beauty,
images you've always seen in the mirror.

We will wake up and you will be my breakfast in bed.

I will read you like the morning newspaper

because you've craved before 

that I would at least understand you. 

We will sail to far away places,
and see sights breathtaking to ever come back.

I will spoil you.

Anything you want, 

is everything you'll get.

Balloons

The world is colourful, each with their own.

It is what you make it and the harder you blow,

the bigger it becomes. 

You don't blow in too little, it won't look like anything much.

You don't blow in too much, you might burst it into pieces.

You blow in enough, fearless and not too greedy.

& every time you blow in, beat your limits.

Stretch yourself further,

but not too far to ever come back.

But isn't it the thing with balloons?

Like once you blow into them

they never get back to what they really were.

Keep your presence of mind.

& don't mind the other balloons.

They don't have your air in them.

Their air, their business.

Make your balloon your business.

Protect it from the thorns

and guard it from the heat.

Love it with your heart

your lungs spoke life into it.

You gave it existence.

It's elastic as it gets,

there's always room for improvement.

The past is always unseen,

but the present is dependent on it.

So put in 100%

It's the only way to lift it up.

It floats when it's ready

and people will see..

People will relate.

You will join the crowd of balloons up in the sky

and you will coexist.

You do it better, if you blew in better.

The amount of breathe that went into the balloon

speaks for itself.

It glows in your own colour and it aims for the sky.

Don't use a shorter string if you want it

to travel the horizons and around the world.

When it gets tired it might want to

rest in the clouds calmed by the winds.

It will fellowship with their rains and the sun. 

It will see the world from a high up perspective.

It will see how small we all are

yet so big if we ride and rise above our fears.

Let your balloon accomplish what you've dreamt it to,

it will be at its most radiant.

When the time comes for it to go,

release the string and let it float away 

into the vastness that is unknown.

I have heard people say,

"If you love your balloon, let it go"

War has been declared

War has been declared and our night

has mightily be put to test.

Shall we hide in the shadows

or blind the enemy with our light?

Shall we cower before our children

or step out to fight for our motherland?

The winds of despair are approaching 

and the silence of our friends

has betrayed us.

We have been ambushed in our sleep,

our doors broken down with evil agendas.

The pipeline of hope is closing in on us

and the gates are being brought to their knees.

The guards have flown from their bodies

and we are under a great siege.

I pray you open the floodgates of heaven

and restore our faith.

We have been mighty before

and the clouds have crowned us.

We have been untouchable

and nobody could scruffle our feathers.

We have believed before

that the knife that cuts

is broken by our skin. Tough.

And today while we slept,

the enemy approached,

stealthily as if a sinner.

They covered our bases and 

uprooted our defences,

Where were you, O Lord, when we slept?

The King has put his trust in you alone.

Deliver him at his weakest.

Restore him to his stature

and groom him to adore you.

War has been declared and we are going to win.

Ri$k for a dollar

My two cents, please, if I may.

May-weather is the worst still.

A little bit indecisive, (to rain or not to rain)

but punches you the hardest.

The debts come calling,

your bank won't stop calling,

phone bill won't support calling.

They play too much in the streets,

they don't know how hard it is at home.

So, I'll take a risk for the dollar.

I'll peel my skin off if I have to 

and I'll fight the wars you're too afraid to win.

I'll take a risk for the dollar.

I'll put a helmet on top of my head

and put my hands to work.

The roof might collapse, I might fall into a ditch,

these things happen,

but I'll still take it.

I'll take a risk for my family.

My eldest brother dying of cancer,

my sister crippled with debts from her school loans.

I'll take a risk and prove the world wrong,

even if it fights my being right.

I'll devote my life to the skies

and fly planes that might crush.

I will take people places and 

they will trust me with their lives.

I might die one day on this,

but it's a risk I am willing to take.

The night harbours the darkness 

I wholeheartedly run away from.

The lust, the desperation, the evils

I'm clueless about.

The thieves pry the streets and

the homeless are a nuisance some times.

I feel your pain just

don't pour your life frustrations out onto every

Tom, Dick and Harry.

Their minds are their biggest problems,

ours all.

But I'll work as a night-guard. I will do it for the dollar.

I will stay awake and sleep less

since coffee is my new bestfriend.

She understands me,

even if my books don't 

and neither do I, them.

My parents are paying too much money

for my education and I do not want to disappoint them.

See, I don't even know how I will use

this program in the real world out there.

I have so many questions and 

an unspoken fear of failure.

It eats me but I'll take the risk.

My only sister is sick in hospital.

Doctor's said she's dying soon

and she's the only family I have left.

I have no money and I've heard 

stories from my friend, Judy,

that I can do what I hate most

to survive.

I don't want to sell my body 

and I know the diseases out there

swallow you whole.

They eat you from within.

My body, my temple; I don't want to give you away.

I have run out of options

and I definitely do not want to take this risk,

even for a dollar.

Petal Plucked

Some summer day in June, 

12:17 (Midnight)

6am, woke up.

Busy days call for ambition

and the early bird catches the worm.

Warm blankets and cold mornings;

warm breakfast and cold milk.

The sun is out as early as it should

and the busy morning streets

remind me that everyone is chasing something.

I pray they catch it, I hope they find it.

The parking lot at work is full, 

and the offices too, full of drama.

You can pick out mild scents of sweat

from the violent mixture of different perfumes.

You smell so good to run your way to work, nice.

And the burnt tobacco stench, too.

It's all we smoke on our little short breaks.

It's Friday and everyone is trying to be friendly,

maybe a little too hard to catch drinks later.

I am past the fun life now,

I'm just trying to make money.

The view from my office space 

is wholly breathtaking.

The board meetings will not let me relish 

in my space most of the times

but I'm still grateful, always been.

A couple of errands to run after work.

It's creepy how things get messy.

So many little responsibilities.

Like you were never born for fun.

Ha! Find humor in these situations,

it gets priceless.

Drop my daughter to class for dance practice,

I wait for her, parked in the alley behind the school.

I'm tired so I recline my seat and nap,

awake though, checking my watch oft.

I must have been taken away,

because I was woken up by loud noises.

An angry mob was outside,

with stones, baying for my blood.

Lord, this is a good dream!

I must have laughed at myself for 

letting myself sleep too much.

It was a short laugh as the first stone

smashed my window.

They were asking me to step out from the car.

I was so confused I stepped out to my own death. And on time, too.

The first throw had me sprawling on the ground, blood gushing furiously from my head.

I did not think myself a Goliath

and the man who threw the rock 

definitely did not look a David.

I must have passed out a little later

as the thousands other blows 

landed on my rather unresponsive body.

I had not said a proper goodbye 

to my little princess and her mum;

I wailed.

But could barely feel my tears.

I was torn, tarnished,

left unplucked.

June 15th 1993

12:17 (Midnight)

We had had cases of violence in our streets.

We had heard of kidnappings, rape,

drugs and a lot of murders going on

recently.

Recently had we re-elected 

the same people we had sworn not to.

They were doing exactly what they had done before, nothing.

And this same nothing was killing us.

Destroying our sons, defaming our daughters

and robbing us of our peace.

We were pissed. Someone had to act.

Someone had to come to our rescue 

and bring back our girls.

These dirty hands of crime always came

to the safest and nicest neighbourhoods

to infiltrate our well-being,

far away, where the long arm of the law

would never bend toward.

We were safe until now.

So, today we decided to take matters into our hands

and wipe away the stains, our way.

Our first suspect was at the right place

right when we expected him to.

Always in the dark

waiting for the small girls to 

head home from dance practice.

He had used a nicer car this time.

Is he getting this money from where I think he is??

Wow. These people. 

They even threatened a mum once and 

took away her daughter while she lay down facing dirt.

The cowards were using a gun.

She was sobbing, she must have been terrified.

And now they think they can do it again.

Things have changed around here,

I hoped they knew..

The old dog had learned new skills, new tricks.

We surprised him, he was asleep.

The hunter who sleeps on the hunt

is pranced on by his prey. He must have forgot.

He stepped out as though innocent 

but my eye was fixed on his head 

and the evil intentions dancing in it

and I hurled my stone, first,

straight to his head, fast.

"He who has no sin"

It pushed me aback

but I was doing this for a good cause.

This madness has to stop.

We will not let our little girls get raped,

and watch their futures get destroyed!

I joined in the mob and our job 

was done in a few minutes.

He must not have fought hard

because he knew 

he was paying for his shortcomings.

The wages of sin. 

We left an anonymous letter addressing the 

mayor and our councillor saying:

"We will keep plucking"

Why I do poetry

The world is a canvas and I'm here to paint it.

Colours of a rainbow become white when you mix them,

and the purpose is the motivation.

The ignition, the genesis of a new life.

Yet we can only predict the future

if we create it; vision.

The will of the mind is the mightiest weapon,

it makes things happen.

Negativity and letdowns distort this vision,

they create little impossibilities

in a world full of possibilities.

They quieten a prodding for success,

our innate thirst for achievement!  

They dampen our spirits and 

create a false feeling of it might never happen.

& the strongest ones are the ones who rise 

above negativity and hate.

They see the world in all shades of colour

rather than one.

They open themselves up to learn,

to view the world with a different perspective.

They yearn to change the world.

I do poetry because I found my voice

and I'm willing to be responsive to positivity.

I am willing to help people change

and see things different;

in a better light.

I embrace light when I see it

and my soul has found a rhythm to dance to.

I find pleasure, even in the most inane things.

I see beauty with an eye of perfection

because we can all be better.

I criticize, I correct, I admonish, I inspire,

I create, I conquer, I admire, I inquire.

There are so many things I want to know.

Like why people do things the way they do them,

like why the poor suffer and the rich prosper,

like why the mighty might fall in the hands of the weak.

I pry, I visualize, I imagine, I create. 

I do poetry because I believe my words can change our hearts,

and with a change of heart and audacity in our minds,

I believe this world can become an even better place.

Bleach the night

Bring down the curtains and break the windows!

Rush in a hurry outside and come seize the darkness.

Feel this darkness rush and choke you from the lungs.

Things like these make you puke your own blood.

It's that bad.

Let us feel the pain, the gunshot afar.

Let's hear the old woman weep for her hungry children.

Hear the dogs shun away the terrified thieves, hungry

but with a family to feed.

Shatter your eardrums with the young child

screaming help! terrified as well under the hands of a dirty bastard.

Share your pity with the mother crying,

her only son dying under the prick of a mosquito.

Damn, malaria kills.

Don't forget the homeless family lying to sleep 

hungry too, under the subway bridge, cold.

The dark is night now

and the night dark, wow.

and we are needed to save it.

Stand your ground and match with the brave..

We will fight the battle, I'll teach you the art.

We will rise, we will conquer,

I will teach you how to win.

we will paint the skies bright.

We will bleach the night 

and save blemish from its sins.

We are here to create a better day.

We are here to bleach the night.

The Toiler's Diary

Today I worked hard, today I did my best.
I rose before the sun did and
am about to sleep, long after it set.
I'm weary now, but the feeling is priceless;
that today I did something,
today I accomplished.

I break my back, bend my neck,
all day, every day to feed my stomach,
and others' stomachs.
I have a Princess to feed, fam
and her Queen of a mother.
She toils too, she soils her hands,
she does better what any man would,
because she believes in the
law of returns:
reaping what we sow.

But what did I sow?
Is the hours I've put in,
the money I've got out?
Or what am I reaping?
I need the money,
that's why I work.
To pay my bills, to live.
But is it ever going to be enough,
for the castle I desire to build,
for the empire I desire to rule?
My Princess,
does she think of me as King,
or as the regular dad I've been?
Who is never home when she wakes,
and walks in late when she sleeps.

I am a toiler, and I work hard.
Partly, I'm proud of that.
But who do I work hard for?
Is it for me and my Kingdom,
or for the man who pays me?

The man I work for
making him a thousand-fold of
what he gives to me.
The man who, unknowingly,
holds the fate of my Kingdom
in his fat chubby hands.
Looking at mine,
they are hard and strong.
The nerves are showing
and the blood is flowing,
I can see it. It is flowing.
All these years of hard work,
all these tears from yard work.

I'll stop complaining now
and maybe jump into bed
because I'm needed early
tomorrow at work,
to repeat the cycle;
the toiler's cycle.

She's no angel

Peaceful, with grace and speed so swift, but still, a venomous viper. She's harmless until harm is in her way, and she strikes back the only way she knows how; two fangs deep.
She's no angel.

Beautiful and translucent, well-meaning and with no harmful intentions. Well, until, you swim right into her territories. She is like the sea wasp box jellyfish. She stays clear until you're far too near.
She's no angel.

Fast-acting and effective, a bit defensive and knows what she wants. She is like the deathstalker scorpion, true, and just don't step on her shoes... she strikes back real quick. fatal.
She's no angel.

Sweet and smells like honey. Diligent in her goings and altogether committed. She is like the Africanized Honey Bee, yes, aggressive and with stings so loud. She will chase you for miles, away.
She's no angel.

Colorful and pretty, easy on the eyes. She'll steal your breathe in seconds but please don't touch her. She is like the Poison Dart Frog., with poison enough to kill 10,000 mice, a drop of it to putting your soul to rest.. just by the single touch of her skin.
She's no angel.

Referred to by many as shy. Keeping to her ways and looking for no trouble. But when trouble comes knocking on her door, best believe me, she is like the Boomslang.. you heard that right. She will bite you where it pains the most and your blood will refuse to clot. She will bleed you dry.
She's no angel.

When they said do not judge 

a book by its cover,

they meant her. Wrapped up

in what is weakness to the 

gullible depraved man's eyes.

She is vicious

and her eyes determined.

Her voice, soft but demanding.

She is all levels of goodness

and it is the pain in her heart

that pushes her to live again.

Do not awaken the sleeping tigress

if you're not ready to deal

with her claws.

She's no angel.

Kush and Caterpillars

If all the highways would lead to High Park,

traffic would possibly be headed to higher heights.

In the evening hours,

the crimson-colored rays of the sun

paste and decorate the clouds with awe,

way far, near the horizon.

They say pain cures itself

and there's a magic in us

that can define our limits.

Lost souls seek a new beginning,

almost always.

They seek new paths

and save up for new shoes.

New shoes they can fit in
even if the last ones were better.

The cycle is longest when you have to,

shorter enough when you love to.

The winds know us by name

and the breeze in the trees,

has shared our breaths.

We are like a calm disaster,

that sinks the ship as the Captain sleeps.

We are like the wolves of the night

and we howl the loudest

when the full moon creeps upon us.

We are thorough and lacking at the same time
and the grasses shield us from want.
We know the meadows and
they've caressed our bellies and fed us.
We have climbed the mountains,
alongside the cool trickling waters.
We have quenched our thirsts
whenever we needed to
and we are now ready to conquer the world.
This is the most pain I have felt in a long while.
My head keeps buzzing and the
daylight burns my eyes..
the moonlight is unfriendly and
the mist has tried choking me once.
My insides are crumbling and
my legs are weak, almost falling off.
I postulate that that is what happens
when you are almost becoming
a butterfly.

Be my Confetti

I have been robbed of sleep before,
shutting my eyes tight but
my dreams too adamant to yield.
On nights like these,
is when I have deserted my beddings
and stepped into the cold.
I have tried making tea, then,
to sip myself to sleep
but there was not enough sugar
to sweeten up my despair.
I have felt strongly for the breeze of the night.
Because I have never understood
why darkness had to find a friend in cold.
It has to be not fair how
those summer nights are no more.
Where we would sit on rooftops
and smoke shisha.
We would catch up with life
and tell tales for days on end,
some of them made up, of course,
and there was absolutely no need for sleep.
But those summer nights die so fast.
They are gone before you even love them.
So you just miss them,
especially, on nights like these.
On nights like these have I introspected
even in public.
Not a hint of shame.
I would be dreaming
but I think I have mused enough.
Even my bed agrees I should abandon sleep
and work to realize the few fantasies I have
desired.
They all seem glittering and I do not know why.
I have yielded their potential
and it is sickening
that to dream one has to hope.
I'll hope no longer
and dive into the limelight.
I'll skip the shadows and clutch the show
because I'm tired.
I'm tired and I need to sleep.
I'm tired of those in the light not doing enough
when I am still hiding behind sleepless nights,
doing the most.
I will climb up the stage and
sing my voice hoarse.
and I hope when I'm done performing;
every tune your soul has ever craved to listen to,
every tune your soul has ever thirsted for,
every tune your soul has ever waited for to rise..

will be endlessly filled in your mind.

Rhythm.

and I hope it will soothe your tired limbs

and massage your broken heart.

I hope, you will be in furious excitement,
in sort of a frantic delirium,
and all over the place, in a wild frenzy.
We will forget this sleepless night
and you will embrace my genuineness.
You will cheer me on,
and you'll brighten me up!
You will rain over me and I'll gladly
own you.
You will be my confetti.

Transcendence

Immanence.

Emmanuel was his name:
"God with us'"

Have you ever heard of the Eden people?
They graced the beauty of the gardens,
as kindred, bred with innocence
and clothed with nothingness.
Soulmates are hard to come across,
especially if the roads we tread on
lead to the deserted places in our hearts.
It is even harder to keep them.
The wax on the candle seems
put and in shape,
unshaken and unmovable
until the match is struck.
How do apples fall from grace?
Do they wait for autumn too?
But the serpent hearts
slither even through the most purest.
A deceiving tongue and dishonest intentions.
The sun was the witness of all these.
The apple trees would grow and die,
the sun would still remain.
It had seen sin and truth,
lies and merciless wars.
He had seen peace and turmoil
and whether blood was spilled or not,
he had always paid devotion to the soil.
Wars were always a failure.
Anyone who stepped up for war
lost a bit of themselves in the mayhem.
The wise ones created none
and fought to keep peace flowing.
The rains would pour,
even in the most mystic places.
Where wounds were healed
and in where the rain itself was prayed for.
There was the unusual
upsetting of events
when someone remarkable
stepped up to a podium
and changed the face of the planet.
The doers, the movers, the shakers.
The very people who advanced us.
But it's confusing.
"We will all be judged by the courage in our hearts."
And it's not like times are not different.
The air we breathe has lost its fragrance
and the perfume in our hearts dampened.
The color of the blue sky has faded over time,
the blue in our oceans diluted.
I have heard praises are unsung
and hate is filled in the air.
To look good, we looked for wrongs.
Petty. We lost our pretty.
We have wanted so much
but have lost so much in this pursuit.
We have been wounded and love has left us.
We are empty and our banks are dry,
our wells cracking dry.
Now is the time we need each other.
We need us.
We need to open the floodgates
and let the love naturally flow.
To rise above hate,
we need to understand ourselves.
We are weak-willed sometimes
and unforgiving.
We are pretentious mostly
but it's something we could change.
If we would learn to love ourselves.
If we would learn to treasure who we are.
If we would learn to spread this love.
If we would learn to fight
only the fights we
are ready to be consumed with.

The Road Trip

To see the world, you have to travel.
& friends make the memories
last a little bit longer.
Last weekend, we embarked  on a road trip.
Me and three of my friends.
Fun people, beautiful souls.
I was behind the wheel
and the wheel felt the love in my hands.
The wheels felt the burnt tarmac
and they seemed to be in a fellowship.
The engine roared and we took off, we soared.
Slowly, through the streets with our woes.
We were going to forget them soon.
I maneuvered around the lights
and we found ourselves on the gracious highway.
Driving through the highways of Atlanta
was overwhelmingly dazzling.
The sun was out
and the green in the trees was striking.
The top was down and the breeze
caressed our faces
leaving us lost in high spirits.
All these cars speeding alongside ours;
where were they going?
Were they on a road trip too?
Nobody knows.
I pulled into a gas station,
several miles away from the high way.
It was the closest one the GPS could find.
It was in an isolated town
and there seemed to be no owner.
I had worked at a service store before
so I knew how to tilt the levels to our favor.
With a full tank,
we headed to the closest liquor store.
My friends thought it better
to stock well before we got crazier ideas.
The day was still young and unmotivated.
It seemed we were up to mischief,
weekend shenanigans.
On our way back, to be honest,
I was a bit tipsy.
Everyone else was drunk to their bones, wasted.
The music was bumping loudly
and we stole a couple of glances, here and there.
We stopped about three times
to drink some more and to stretch and dance.
Dusk was falling rapidly
and I could see the lights blaze in the dusking sky.
Glorious evenings.
I suggested we should get back going
and we hit the road again.
There was too many thoughts
paragliding through my head.
It felt like a floating hot-air balloon
which was having too much hot air blowing into it.
I had caught fire, my arms were trembling!

I was uneasy in my seat and palms of sweat

trickled down my forehead.

I had done this before, I reminded myself.

I tried making jokes to regain my mind,

and would occasionally 

turn back to ask everyone the usual;

"Are we all okay?"  "Had fun?" haha
and as I turned back to face the road,
time froze.
I felt as if I was trapped in a vacuum
and running quickly out of oxygen.
My senses were numb,
mind flashing back years like I was watching a trailer. A fun trailer though.
The brakes were too far for my foot
and the gas pedal was still firmly pressed to the ground.
Everything gave way and
the red light I had missed
flashed into my soul as I heard the impact.
I saw the car crash from the side
and the pieces kept coming at me.
The truck had smashed right into the side
of the car and in seconds,
I felt torn into pieces and dismantled.

Lost.
Intense pain and then silence.
I was in a dark place all of a sudden.
The lights dimmed and I felt for nothing.
My senses were gone and I knew I had left.
I was driving no more,
I was drunk no more.
I was alive no more.

p.s: I still don't know if my friends survived. Please let me know if you run into them before I do. I owe them an apology.

The wars we won

My Lord, O King,
if you were to weep today;
weep not for the bitter storms at sea,
weep not for the vengeful warriors from the North,
weep not for the meager harvests,
nor for the scorching sun..
weep not for the flooding rivers
and unexpected flaws in nature we face.
Weep, however, for the wars we have won.
Yes. They demand your tears and
wishless remorse.
They demand you to strip off your robes
and walk in ashy and tattered sacks.
Let your strong hair be covered grey
and heart painted sad.
Let your cries be heard in the gates
and far into the marketplace.
Let the children hear their King cry,
their brave stronghold wail.
They demand you to beat your chest,
this time, in shame and disgust.,
because we could wish we had not.
The wars we won outstripped us.
They left us dazed and stupefied.
They left us feeling untouchable,
invincible.
They left us frenzied and drowning in liquor.
The guards were in merry and
our gates remained unprotected.
The wars we won.
We wanted more. We wished to conquer.
We felt like gods and in only you,
O noble King,
did we believe.
We were happy and oblivious of danger.
Hearken, my King, maybe we did not just do it
all by our might.
The heavens had opened that night
and the light was on our side..
blinding the enemy.
We have won before too.
This time we had found them asleep.
I remember this vividly,
how they woke up to their deaths.
Ambush. When we descended upon
the army of Palcedia.
They were not ready for us
and see what that did to them.
So weep my Lord,
and I will join you.
Heck! The entire Kingdom will
tread your steps.
We will cleanse these walls of all conceit
and redecorate your pathways.
We will humble ourselves
as how we have risen before.
The wars we have won
will be plucked from our eyesight
and we will march for tomorrow,
with our swords sharpened
and pride quietened.