To me today

As I get older
As grey matters
Turn into plain matters
Like black and white
As veils fall off my face
And light shines on this case
My heart beats with trepidation
As I stare at a congregation of men
Men who go to war in the wrong gears
Who return wounded
Arrow injuries in their rear
Others came back bound
At least, they’re better than the dead.

But this men started well
They got caught up in the storms
They lost focus, couldn’t come back to tell
As I mourn, as streams of tears well up
I wonder if I will end up like them.

So today, as I celebrate another year
I could ask for a girl,  not had one in years
A car, because my shoes are beginning to wear
A destination,  ’cause my passport’s stamps are disappointing
Extra money, a work appointment
A view of luxury from my luxurious apartment
But all I ask is the strength to end this race
At the predetermined pace
May I not lose focus at the loose of my shoe lace
May I go to war fully equipped, properly dressed
That at the end, may I have fought a good fight
I pray that I would confidently have finished my race
And a crown of glory shall await me from the Father of grace.

Happy birthday to me.

Loved One Turned Ghosts

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Photo by Sergi Passos instagram: @sergipassos

When loved ones become ghosts
Those warm hands you use to hold become cold
They visit at night with naughty smiles
Saying in not so many words
That we can see them but we can’t touch them.

When loved ones become ghosts
There weren’t forewarning, prophets didn’t foretell
They just suddenly disappeared
Their voices now only echoes in our mind’s ear
They’re box and given to earth’s growling belly
And it is all over.

When loved ones become ghosts
Not because there lives had become stories that bored us
They in fact still had dreams and aspiration
But because death’s selfish arms has come way too early to claim them
We and them unsuspecting
Too carried away with the affairs of life to notice death lurking around the street corners.

When loved ones become ghosts
And they leave our use to be warmed heart cold
For the fear that we may love too much again only for them to disappear
But can we love truly love too much
They’ll be only be friendly ghosts if we did love them but hunt us if weren’t.

So for loved ones who have become ghosts
Come only at nighttimes, when I’m asleep
Slip into my heart the sweet melodies of heaven
Tell me stories of other ghost you’ve met
So I may retell your tales to the land of the living.