A slight node of mines head and all comes flashing back jaded like.
Abhorred are my bended thoughts to fit my ambitious self.
Profusely denying the fact that you can never outrun who you are, but can clearly outlive whom you’ve become.
Down in flames all goes and up in smoke its seems to be seen.
You are not created to shadow, but to star in your own reality.
A good look at yourself and mirrored is an image that shame the angels.
Positivity is the game for you are hot as lava, but don’t be just as thick.
puzzled by the grim’s grip to its scythe, beheaded Am I in face of the afterlife.
Foretasted are the thoughts of how, when and where it will all be, in wonder if the soul is left watching over us…
Sir. George Githunguri
© Feb 2018