Kojoni

Every single time I intend  to extend these heavy words to this glorious gem of a lady, time and chance plays hide-and-seek with love and fondness. I’ve longed for her warm embrace and the slap across my face for cheating on her; that is, if I foolishly do so. Many friends and acquaintances become instantly awed at the sight of her backbone and her frontal zone. It’s probably due to their respective sizes or maybe the swagger capturing her catwalk. She’s worth much more than human eyes can envision: and even lighter than most heavy minds would attempt to fathom. But my impasse defined by her unwillingness to receive this message of mine, has most certainly caused me to stint on the inherent blaze dying down with each turndown. Her name rings the royal ringtone each moment it’s mentioned. Not the type adorned and ensconced with the raiment of humans or commons: the kind woven by powerful ones sadly unseen and unheard of. Though fairer than a Cleopatra, she risks losing her indep

Scream Let those inner demons out They seek to burrow into you Raising alters of death and doubt Cry Allow the flow of fresh tear You wouldn’t want to be inundated Drowned in floods of fear Laugh Release bouts of bliss Life is nothing without joy In a hateful dark world like this. Pray Let your knees feel the ground God can’t speak to men When they make no heavenly sound.

It’s like being stationed in an observatory, but without the telescope to provide that closer view of the distant. Perhaps, the only far-reaching instrument at work in my present state is the seclusion driving me crazy. I’m currently trying to seek solace in my room’s chalice: staring into the sky adorned with grains of stardust poured out for the optical pleasure of humankind. My strange desire for these shimmering masses of energy has been borne out of the immeasurable surge of loneliness, much stronger than earlier envisaged. My colleague just distracted the deadly description I was about to unleash. But I’ll disintegrate the complexity breeding in my bowels before my eyes begin to feel weary. I must be gazing at one of the many constellations which seems to be mystical or something out of the ordinary. I postulate that of Pegasus, which seems fascinating enough for a quiet enthusiast of the night sky. Maybe the aerial-bound horse would tickle many a fancy, but the fact that