“Love is easier to carry than hate. So I untangle from my past and realize my fate. Transcend the pain to forgiveness, to nurture my scars. We are what we witness, and we are also stars.”

Clutching a burning match, he said “look, and she’ll explode”. Ignored the gas he poured; his match caused my implode.

We shined a light through our flaws to our internalistic plea. Emphasized the healing that shall set our lost souls free. We were a brief reflection of what we should not be.

You, a God I worshipped Your word was music to my ears Rose-tinted glasses: verdict You confirmed all my worst fears.

The highest love. Highest power. I will let you in. Devour this anguish, I’m harboring, all to you, surrendering.

Endless consumption will not make you feel whole suffer, stained items are not good for the soul.

She’ll find peace in the solitude, in the depths of the well. The darkness alludes to how far she fell. And perhaps, the view is better from way down afar, It keeps the water still In her reservoir.

Move from reactionary; seek neutrality. It’s the only way to truly be free.

My mother used to say “Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today” I say What can you do today to make the world a better place?

I survived the darkness. Crawled. Clawed. Endured. Untangled lies from truth. This wisdom is my sword.

I am worthy and steely. I will conquer again. Truth as my armor; My sword is my pen. Tell me I can’t and I’ll show you I will surviving and thriving is my refined skill.

He always preferred the way my eyes looked after they had cried. I wish he knew how fine they looked once he had said goodbye.

Cultural identity; warped and changed. Each of you thinks the other is to blame, It’s created this way, yet we all play a role. We could stop it today if we felt the truth in our souls.

Contemplation; intrinsic. I am aligned perception. A, perfected plan. I am ferocious and tranquil. Rising. Pain to power. Alchemic. Energising

How many wounds can you convert to wisdom? How much pain to power can you permute and fathom? This is your story; rewrite how it’s written.

Why do I see in a world gone blind? I always longed to find the answers, took chances. Asked for the veil to thin. Fault? Mine. Left questioning; my eyes, blessings or curses?

My bloody hands that hold on to faith. Learned that we grow with pain and not age.

It is to be remarked that a good many people are born curiously unfitted for the fate waiting them on this earth.

The handsome gifts that fate and nature lend us Most often are the very ones that end us.

Notions of chance and fate are the preoccupations of men engaged in rash undertakings.

They that are fated to be fools, have one consolation, that they are fated also to be ignorant of it.

Destiny is that which we are drawn towards and fate is that which we run into.

I was not in the race to become a chief minister. I had never thought about it.

If the whole world says it is due to palm lines that my fate is bad, then why can’t I change my palm lines.

I’m a believer in fate and in fulfilling your destiny. I’ve always had a kind of inner voice that I have learned to listen to.