THE OLD HORNS AND HOLD UNTOS by Mide Benedict

'We only hold on to those things sometimes because we are scared, afraid at what would happen when we've let go'

Sometimes what we hold unto, what we think is our greatest treasure, what we think we cannot live without, all those things, every thing and everything are the first to be and can be lived without.

We only hold on to those things sometimes because we are scared, afraid at what would happen when we've let go. We tend to ask the question, what will be our fates when we let go and would we be able to cope with ourselves, with life, with everything and everything when we set them free, but we cannot know

what lies before us, if we do not let go of those things that have become tattooed habits to our lives, principally those things that have tied us down, from which we cannot move forward as long as we are stuck with them. Most of those things hold us back, put us in chains, tame us with illusionism and at the end we become enslaved by our own self made decisions.

Nothing cannot be broken, nothing cannot be lived without.
But first, wait, take a deep time to have a deep thought; are those things really what will help us succeed in the nearest future? If yes, then they are not meant to be in that position they are in at present, they have become stale, outdated, out-of-lives, and we need to move forward with them, upgrade those things we have, but if not, if they only are there to suck from us without giving anything back to improve us, then, let it go, let them go, let all go, break all chains, break them all!!! Break it now!!!

Words of Mide Benedict

Comments

God and The Snail: Poetry For Some One Lost Soul

Sometimes it feels Like all is done, That this life of ours Is caught in deadly thorns: From where we cry for help in a land Where to have ears is a great taboo! But in all these... we remember...

WHO DOES THIS BELONG TO? By MIDÉ BENEDICT

This is for those Who see life as an unfair land, Where growth is fairly found only On luck's fragile and ferocious tree: It is for those whose eyes only See reality as a coin Always tossed to uncertainty: For those who see misery As an inescapable ditch, Never to be seen when its mouth agars, Never to be escaped when its venom runs, But to be delivered like a slave for a ritual, Thrown like a cotyledon into dry soil, To germinate failure like a blocked well, Hoping to salvage a droughty throat. For those whose first name is lucky, Whose last name is uncertainty And middle name misery, Know that which you know not that The poison in your tongue is The wine your life drinks; It drinks on and on till stupor calls for death And stupidity dresses its grave Like a young man before a mirror, Staring unthinkingly at his face, Till he sees greyness in his eyes. This is for those who see eye to eye With the words on this slate. Image by Midé Benedict

TIED TO FREEDOM by Mide Benedict

Don’t hold me down L ike I’m in some cave Just like a bird flies Where nothing breathes light Through a hidden dark sky L ike an existence lost in inexistence, Locked up in a bottle T hat only lives every day in an every minute coffin Tightened with an unbreakable cover. Free me I said, but you brought me this! What freedom is more painful than Eye balls without sights; faith without work like To walk on a spot; Mountains tied to your legs While eyes go dark As you walk unmoving: In a place surrounded by light; What a freedom! Image from : http://theadventurehandbook.com

Temple of Words

Search This Blog