November Wordsworth

 At an onset of an onslaught of dire awakens of a storm of stench, carried on by disastrous western winds sprouts out honor in the heart of Africa. for revival of indigenous etiquette In the essence of independency  for a dreamlike brandnew beginning we wean off spoon feed and slavery. In fear of our inaction's consequence we query our next generation's inheritance won't our blannders become their buddens? with courage and determination a leap of faith against all odds we take a thorough thorny rough though worthy road for the conservation of zenji culture  and the foundation for our nurture. Built on hunchbacks of heroic chronicles,  on demeanour of righteousness we prevail  solid we stand, without fear or favour bold our life begins, tall we stride on  Worth not an amount nor a price created in the image of Him the most high, not Sodom nor Gomorrah, we're Africa  we say no to homosexuality. @ juliuscseguya

I lost grip Sea waves wobble me here & there Like littered paper cast after use My life is void of grace.  I lost equilibrium Like a leaf on the wind My life is out of balance.  I lost velocity Out of momentum Like a train out of fuel. You are my fuel Please come back to me.