Reginaldo Emele

"Brokenness is the fertile ground through which our beauty sprouts"                                                                   -  Reginaldo Emele

You will always be a lovely scene; a stop and stare A beautiful story book of lovely roses; a gentle wind blowing the trees Happy children smiling and playing gently with loveliness Chapters full of love disseminated in flavours of shapes and sizes A page always a source of anxiety for the next page Even if the story book has ended It's continuity will stare in the minds of the admiring That will be the end

 Love can be the most painful; but in it's pain the most remarkable of all when channelled in the right proportion of ways. It is the most complicated thing, but in it's complication the most wonderful and most special. Love can turn the weakest into the bravest in an instant of a moment. If we understand love, we will understand the simplicity of things that we are deeming in complication.

My life shrouded in pieces of mystery Encumbered with feats of misery Begotten of a wrenched soul Swimming around piety A life so peaceful;but in shame Such a mystery it beholds throughout it's essence A facade poised to fade away In return for pride Never a dime to behold But a treasure to withold

We all want to make the world a better place but it seems that this narrative is an inadvertent distraction by ourselves against ourselves because the first and primary thing which is the foundation of making the world a better place is making ourselves an abode of love to be a perfect environment for others to reside with and feel our glory and be a change.

My life being full of roses Blends of several colours and flavours Seamless flow of unimaginable imaginations That keeps me flying high with my feet still on the ground Walking in my glory, splendor and candor Everything seems grandiose before my eyes I could touch greatness As a matter of fact, i was a brother Even though the sandstorms swept my feet away I never kept away from it's grasp Even though everything i saw was dirt I could see light in my dirt That flow of uncertainty blossoming into certainty Is the greatest strength i could muster The unseeming harmony that makes life what it is This was my dream in my reality For my reality is the essence of my being

The rain is cold Dripping hard on me My heart as hard as stone Every passer-by looking at me as a deranged fit Probably a glance or two; maybe more I hold my head tightly; my voice growing boisterously as the pain increases I can feel my mind tearing apart I am uncertain whether to be in tears or in indignation The more uncertain, the more blurry i see My heart pounding harder by the second What do i do? Helpless i was, helpless i am What world am i in in the world that i see My being far away from me Who am i right now? This question keeps accompanying me till i faint in the cuddle of distress