Fear of Freedom

February 7, 2026February 8, 2026Leave a comment

Free will can be God’s will

But Lucy in his craft has created customs and traditions that keep you caged

Maya knows why the caged bird sings

It sings of freedom that comes alive only in dreams

It sings of power and triumph over wickedness

Wickedness dressed in fear’s fashion label

The sophisticated fear of being seen or known

The colour blocking fear for tomorrow

The conventional fear of being disagreeable

Or just the casual fear of leaving your comfort zone

If only the caged bird could stop romanticising her cage long enough to pick the lock

Nobody wants to hear the shrill tune of deep sorrowful lyrics

Action speaks louder than songs

It will fall before it learns how to fly again

The free fall, an exercise of its free will because it knows God’s will

And even if it falls to the ground, the few seconds of living is better than an eternity of letting life pass by.

Live!

Nothing will happen

The worst that could happen is death

And to die is gain

ChyD
© 2026

Five Bullets III

April 15, 2023Leave a comment

Third Bullet: IT’S A MOVIE

Morals and lectures are scripts.
Parents and teachers are directors.
If the roles you act
Does not stir your spirit,
Discard the morals
And trash the lectures.
But woe to you,
If you cross the Rubicon
You will inherit the pang of a director
You will craft a new script
And with all thy might
Will your character into existence.
If you fail , we call it tragedy
If you stone the world, its comedy
Yet, in general life is authentic movie.
For God made it so.

LET’S MAKE MAMMA PROUD

May 15, 2019August 19, 2019Leave a comment

The one; who sat and watched my infant head?
While I slept in your beautiful cradled arms.
The one who held me dearly, like a craft, never to be broken.
Pain is driven off in her arms, arms of love that never harms.
She cast away my fears and with loving warmth dries away my tears.
Her eyes are like stars to behold, they give me hope beyond despair.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Touches from you made me smile.
I was nurtured like a plant to flourish,
Was polished carefully till I looked pretty and beautiful.
Guilty she felt when I had not gotten plenty,
Yet with care she made “this little” satisfy my every need.

Who taught my infant lips to pray?
Who trained me in the way of God and His word?
Told me I would have life less without having the Life of Christ.
Her love is incomprehensible, she calls it agape.
She encouraged me to be loving too because love never fails.
Never look back, heaven is before you. That is her greatest story.

When thou art feeble, old and grey,
I will be your strength, your fulfillment and comfort.
Your smile I will make as I feel your heart with joy everyday.
And one day emerge the man you are proud to call son.
I will take you to church even when you rest in peace.
But till then this is my piece for you;
MY MOTHER.