We were made in his image

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MISCONSTRUED

                                                                                MISCONSTRUED It was around 3:00am in the morning. I sat on a horny looking, ivory seat. I was tired, my day had been filled with exhaustion but the tasks ahead was laid with compulsion. It was a time craved for, the splash of diverging madness had fizzled. I was alone in the darkness, no there was switched electrical bulb around me so I think saying that will be madness. I was alone, the presence of heaven had descended, like heaven had laid down the palanquin of its grace on my laps. I could feel his presence emanate f...
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==categories==

So what category do you belong You may find one, be given one from the moment you were born Categories are our trademarks, our birthmarks and our IDs to walk on earth Its our thumbprint, our handles and the post on our walls we cant forget Our personality relies on them and our presence is made from its worth To some you are a girl, to some he is a boy This transcends to your respect,whether you brought sadness or joy To some he is rich, to some he is poor To some you are righteous or a sinner from our fall It is our index on the number line,whether we are greater than or less than Somehow this restricts you or gives you a shot at your best plan Because you don't go according to its demand, it professes you a failure But you know you won, it just wasn't the answer to their prayer But categories has its advantage, its not always that bad At least we know the difference whether objects are black or white It brings your attention to peculiar content, images playing d...
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LIKE ME

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* LIKE ME || LIKE ME * Like me they stand unique, born and bred beyond science equivalence. Like me, they know not their future, living in a puzzling world with questions surrounding them like the radiance of the midday sun. Like me they are pressed from every side, without knowledge of who they are or born to be. Like me they were born with personality, beliefs, ideologies, and hope of a better future beyond which human imagination could ever suppress. They are  moulded in beauty and pride. Like me they laugh, a cherishing scene that radiates amidst the rushing neurones of gladness within them. They cry with pain, as life devastation arises and hits them as they gaze spellbound at how they lost all they have ever built. Like me, they are the symbol of intelligence, admiration and all that defines joy. Like me they have failed the universe. For blood stains their hands and guilt fumes from the pores of their darkened hearts. They have done terrible things and made themselves a...
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