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Chronicles of A Mortal
He was born to live, left in time and space;
Born to shine like a mirror in the sunlight,
He was born for diamonds and spades,
Born to glow like full moon through the nights,
He got the power to sail the heights,
The power of choice was a gift,
The power of choice was a curse,
One wrong turn could be fatal like death,
One right choice could be revealing like newness.
He was born to win, meant to be guided,
He longed for the peak of relevance,
He could stumble in the dark like the blinded,
He could perish in imperfect elegance,
He could fall down like a sick elephant,
Good could turn worse,
Good could lead to the best,
A difficult path could lead to strength,
A haunted path leads to decadence.
He was born to give, its a path to blessings,
He longed to be drunk with holy thoughts,
He could learn to treasure divine lessons,
He could be green in the times of drought.
It is wise to despise the proud,
The soil could be nourishing,
The soil could pollute,
His power could drive him like a whirlwind,
His power could be channels of mercies.
poem
by
Feyisayo Anjorin
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