Dreams And Nightmares v 1.1

She took the warning signs for granted

Now a battered temple tells the story,

Of the monster who charmed his way into her heart

Draped in Prince Charming’s robes

Her love for him runs deep

Try as she may to escape

In loves’s castle her mind, body and soul are confined

To serve a sentence only death can uplift…

A prayer to the heavens she whispers,

“Take my life and give me rest, or better yet CONDEMN this monster I call husband to Hell’s depth!”

And lulls herself to sleep in tears




PhotoCredit @KastorsKorner


Dreams and Nightmares v 1.0

The look in her eyes pierces and strangles my soul to death.

Her Innocence has been exiled,

Only sorrow and anguish remain

The scars of a deep running wound…

A reminder of the terror and horrors of a night past

She wishes it was just a bad dream

But this is her everyday reality

With the monster that pledged to love her till eternity…




PhotoCredit @GettyImages



The Last Sighting Series…



It is said before all is lost, a glimpse of the impending end unveils itself and to but a few is it recognized.
While the majority chooses to ignore, the few ready themselves for what lies beyond the end…

What lies behind each end of a journey is known to those who understand that nothing lasts forever.

Note : This is a pure art of fiction. Events explored are not to be taken as reality (even if they bear resemblance to an event in time that you may have read or heard about)



The world descends into Chaos,

And along with it so goes senses

Madness reigns all over…

Destruction rears its ugly head

And as we brace for annihilation

We applaud an existence coming to an end

Just as we are about to explode to extinction

The mind is awakened to reality

this is just the beginning….

image taken from https://chaosechoes.bandcamp.com/album/a-voiceless-ritual

Is this all


Our life is mundane, you wake up bath, go to work go home sleep and the cycle continues until Saturday when we sort of break but if you really look at it, it’s the same thing every weekend then we boast of free will yet we are jus moist robots.

We spend our best years being conditioned to bring nothing but moist robots, programmed to act, feel and talk in a certain manner, go to school, go to work, buy a car, buy a house, marry, but never once are we programmed to use our brain. If the mind was removable at death some old people will have a hardly used brain.

When was the last time you paused to enjoy the moment??? When last did you do something for someone and expected nothing in return??? When was the last time you did something out of the ordinary???When was…

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At times you just look at things as they unfold before you,

You take a chill pill and just sit back…

Through it all you dont lose yourself,

You anchor your emotions,

Speak in silence and find your center.


“Silent minds have the loudest thoughts”

#3as Mun3oe


Random Morning Thought

There is something rewarding that comes with starting a day on a positive note. The very mind set that welcomes the day with gladness and joy births success for one’s day. It enables one to have a welcoming perspective to the challenges the day will bring fourth as one is in a better frame of mind to tackle all these challenges thrown at them.

On the other hand a negative day start may prove influential as it may serve as stimuli to the desire to excel thus transforming a negative to a positive ultimately bringing even greater joy and happiness to one’s soul. Everyone enjoys the exhilaration (high) that results from getting to win from a position of disadvantage. It is too sweet, trust me I know.

Thus on this day I hit the snooze button a million times in a bid to avoid the inevitable (waking up of course) till I realized how lucky and fortunate I am to see another day. The world lost an iconic star in Muhammed Ali (MHSRIP) and glowing tributes have followed suit from all corners of the world. As the saying goes ‘another is born as another dies’ I realize I have been offered a chance to rise to be iconic to the community I live in and bring hope to those who surround me.

I have embraced this day with positive vigour and as the hour hits midday it has been productive.


I Hate Mornings

I remember when growing up my brother had his favourite (slight exaggeration) coffee mug depicting a certain character having a struggle to wake up. I am sure that it was a Monday morning when the artist came up with that artistic idea.

I do hate mornings but not for the so obvious reasons. Even if they bring a notion of a new start they just disturb one’s visit in the land of possibilities i.e dreamland. Let alone mornings disturb the peace brought upon the land by the night.

Sleep is nature’s own antidote to life’s pain and mornings nuke away all the comfort of forgetting about the pain birthing more problems on top of the already existing ones. No wonder when one dies they are purported to have rested better yet they are said to be at peace. No more morning disturbances for them.

Now you may say I am being a pessimist, wait until dawn messes up your perfect dream and the morning chuckles to your horror filled face in pure joy. Just wait and I know you will echo the same sentiments.

Last but not least (if I ever listed down why i hate mornings) mornings take me away from my sanctuary, The Bedroom and force me out to a cold world where we have become more selfish,  self absorbed, self obsessed to interact with beings forever stuck to their phones living a fake exciting life on social media.

It is another morning brace yourselves for drama as for me it is another day in my boring life. 8 am to 5 pm at my cubicle.

You can read some of my brother’s work here : Random Thoughts vs Emaciated Voice



Random Thought Note…

How does one collate all his thoughts into one and derive meaning let alone wrap it with enough grey matter to make sense to a wide audience?
Does he sit and ponder whilst carefully and methodically picking words and finding a perfect spot for them in a web of phrases and sentences intertwined in reason?
Or does he just blubber around with a hope that his words will somehow bear resemblance of thought and hit a few perfect notes that appeal to his audiences cold hearts?
Maybe he drowns himself in sulphites and thus his mind brings to the fore that which resides in the darkest corners of his mind. In his drunken stupor he shall lay all bare and with the rising sun blame it all on the intoxication?

And here I am thinking to myself to be high and mighty trying to reason with self yet making no sense at all.

I guess I am just tired, the result of a 8-5 work shift in a cubicle gazing at a computer screen punching numbers and code for my financial slave master.

Here I go again trying to put up a lousy pathetic resemblance of a excuse for my failure to make sense…