The Battle
24th September, 2016 Writers

There’s a blandness in my soul

No spark, not even a smoke 

I need to be burned

Burned by the longing to live life to the fullest

I am riddled with infirmities of the mind

My flesh seeks a tavern yet my soul wants none else save the spirit to dine in the enclaves of its presence

But still, though this is beautiful

I cannot help but wince at the almost excruciating pain of desire to conform to some ideology 

Any ideology as longs as it presents itself as a balm for what I deem to be the decaying, unhealing state of my soul

A soul, sold out to one who has claimed it for himself

And made a clown of all his rivals

Where do I run when the spirit is within me?

Yes, indeed, it is true

No man can run away from himself

I am his and he is in me

And though, my fallen nature seeks to be awakened like a lion sedated in the midst of sheep

I can never be safe unless, I am in his warm embrace

Benue, Nigeria
  • the conflict raging within us.

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