IRIS

In the shadow of our precious memory, we watch as it flashes and fade away, as if it's ain't moments of yesterday... For people we once knew and  stick to their path like bird-flu, now it turns to a moment we try to remember without clue... Gone are the times we once shared, the beautiful moments really cared, but here we are as if we ain't there... Times flies, memories dies, we never know when it time to say goodbye, tears stick to the lid of our eye, as our young one parted shore of our precious life... I wish I could turn back time, spend it with loved ones, be in the old clime, porously howling like lake lime... Oh, we already tampered with our prime time, I mean moment we sucked dry our sweet lime... The shadow of death is at our shore, some don't even weep over unpaid debts, surely we all regret, we ought to have wept, till the destroyer of joy caught our last breath.. We give little attention to eternity, and left our home tattered and unkept.

To bathe in your affection, my desire, Kissing you till you run out of breath, Light fingers travelling down your body, As thy flesh sings at my touch, Indeed my skin be wrapped around yours, Under the moonlight, Our flesh in excitement, As we engage in lover's play.

The howling wind woke her up, The loud slaps that the unforgiving rain gave her window kept her up. All her life she was taught not to fear the storm, But how could she not be afraid when she couldn’t see past her window, She let her thoughts take form and she got lost in them. She was the typical African daughter, Her beauty was a gift from above, With her gracefulness making even the iroko tree look like a sapling, Her smile as golden and warm as the morning sun, Her hair as black as the fertile earth, She steps as gracefully as the bata dancer, You could almost never tell she was there, if she didn’t want her presence announce She protects her kind with the ferocity of the Lion, And with pride like the Peacock. The African Daughter is the true child of the soul, Her mother’s best friend, Her father’s priced jewel, the apple of his eye. She’s all these and more.

How else could appreciate the moon, As it shines on my window pane... How much could i appreciate the ocean, when only what i need is a drop of water... In the midst of the dessert, the Oasis is highly appreciated... But no one knows the true essence of water except one who is once thirsty... Beauty is just an understatement for the one who made me her King, for this care is overwhelming, From the one who accept me as king... Gold is cold and lifeless but love is sacrifice and priceless... On this stone I stand alone, like an helpless sim without a phone...

And now when I sat alone, You crept up beside me, Your eyes wild with desire, Your body, a switch to turn me on, In your hands, a knife you wielded, And in my chest you plunged it, Carving out a hole and stealing my heart.

There are months, There are, Months month; Greater  than month. Blessed we said, Before it, Four are specific, Among the months. Let us reach, We seek from him, Baligna Ramadan. The month, Honour is given to the crescent ; It kick off, The anticipating blessing and glories. foods and money we're kept; They found it in many houses Devil is given extra power,  he capture not the believers. The crescent is the father of the moon, All heart must be on the sky. Let us submitted to the throne, Who knows if this will be the last. Welcome to our midst, I greeted you thousand times Thanks for the revisiting,, I pray you will leave some scars Marhaba yah sharu l Gufran Ramadan Mubarak.