The Dialogue

a writing by Adeosun Olamide Ayo

Tune it down a little, the volume. That’ my favorite, the feeder of my soul.

“Heaven wept choose ov’r smile as wailed
Remnants man in Gods small bungalow
Devil is big kingdom with huge mansions
In hell, capable of containing all humans
Seen calmness in fire and silent torments
Shatter ov’r extinguished light
Saw Jesus in hell in pain was Him
It was them choose die
And there they in devils big mansion
Them of weakness succumbed
To embracing horrors theirs
Old or young, all end up cold,
Rich or poor, all in a sunken grave lain
Bright or dull, brains end up being food
Beauty or ugly, become earths compost
Good and bad matters, one in place anguish, other in bliss”

Makes think of fire, don’t want to be fire, fire lightens a world and warm keeps it though’ with passion destructive, constructive but how it can be put off any moment, well not all, some spirit are indestructible, they fade into embers then disappear into smokes but I don’t want to be a fire.

Water? Wouldn’t say water either, yeah it may quench thirst and forth solace, like fire it is not free’ a wind, tempest can use it to quench life.

I really have been one influenced by events’ events forces us into rooms we never could imagine, into duties we never could conceive’ I think suicide is just one of the ways to escape but it is not the only way, there are some other ways that don’t escape us into hell.

Blind man can dwell in light, the man in darkness is whom whose sight sees only flaws in others, now note some call that talent, at least sees something but all seen be darkness.

A word, a gift is valued in note of the issuer, thus a rose can be valued than a garden of hyacinths blue and valley lilies and a hut valued than a mansion, so our heart don’t pick others words, it is to the issuer it attaches bond. Same word from enemy has different effect from’ same word by friends.

No’ I have not seen a garden of hyacinths blue, like a bard’ may not the experience of sun rise or seen it set, may not have clouds journey gaze or waters fall glimpse or even been in a vessel yet all these dwell in thoughts, all this are characteristic of the poet and once become that the tie becomes severe. In dreams a bird soaring over all, there I met them. If I’d be bird, won’t be the eagle or falcon nor would a dove or pigeon, you know I’d be a halcyon if I were a bird.

The gifts cherish most, a clock and a bible, a ticking clock to remind me of my destination’ that my life is fleeting. I also cherish memories, to be given something to remember, I’d prefer if it makes me smile.

I read, I studied not only books, not only nature, not only people; I read and studied myself above all’ that was my first step to rightness. Someday’ I hope to be known as different, possessed not brilliant nor splendid but just separate.

Truth set our soul free, our body may move around while our soul is confined, but the truth set us free indeed that even when our body is bounded we are free.

I do not slip gradually into misdeeds’ just that sometimes harm is the child of good intention. Actions I think should be judged on basis of morality, that killing to protect the weak is no crime and yet crime for the weak gives less duty to society than strong, that I steal to feed my daughters also is no crime and yet crime, it all should be based on emotion and reason which we are a blend of, torn between head and heart.

They wait to eat, after abandon the plate, as bowl we must hold onto our worth less worthless become, let self to world, not few but to all. Those that survive from you shall remember, it is not too thin to be seen, the world rather is blinded by other things.

Democracy is good, but it is meant for stage’ haven’t attained the stage where majority can decide’ many are those on the road that lead to destruction’ democracy is meant for a society with people who can sustain selves, wherein hunger don’t exist. Is that so here? The poor is starved of reason and shouldn’t be starved of choice either’ but I don’t know what decision can make, it is my belief that we let God guide us and He can do that through a man.

It’s not like I don’t think about it, that state of my being before now, that period I have no remembrance or consciousness of, it is hard to imagine I may wander into that state, that blankness but even harder to think I’ll be locked in my body’ betrayed by it, that my body will refuse to heed me, I’d tried to blink my eye but futile, I’ll hear them but they won’t mine, so trying to escape yet I’d be put in earth as I on, my screams unheard and persistent call for help ignored, that I would alone be therein, locked forever in earth would cause a battle, and the stench of war within will give odor on the outside and swell. They then would lock me in forever shut from gaze of sun or touch of rain and there termite shall feast this body, there I would in that skeleton, bound to it, so I’d have eternity to regret actions and inactions and then be frustrated into madness, perhaps all that I see is result the madness. But it’s only a thought, man is connected to the beyond, one we shall sail to after our days on earth.
But for all I have a candle and a lighter, from earth I begin to learn suffering, put my palms around the fire and persevere in discomfort’ we all should this do’ it’ll help a bit in hell.


Tune it up a little, the volume. That’ also my favorite, the feeder of my soul

Oh service of revelry,
And glisten reflects of thought lost in act
When words cease convey thought
And stagger through passage perdition
Or when path in mist is hidden
And fete of stupor as ridge of hill reach
Headed route regret
Sewn in thought misery lament

Starve succor that prolongs suffering
Creep in service and fill hearth mine inferno
Let gasp gather urn my ashes,
And sojourn with tides
That may journey on
To be summoned beyond the veil - See more at:

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