Mikhaela’s tragedy

[]WARNING: Some readers may be offended.[]

Sob, sob, it is no use for me,
I can sob all I want, but this place,
This dark place which never shone light on me,
This eve-of-earth is my birth and death place

Sob, sob, it is of no gain,
For my mother never knew me,
I never felt the touch of her soft skin on my pain,
How my wretched skin longs for it

Sob, sob, it is fruitless tears of shame,
Consolation – this place my spirit is trapped in at least has a name,
It’s called grave

My father, I never knew,
His strong hands never caressed this dry skin,
His adoration – in his heart – flew,
I bet it was not even enough to be shamed as too lean

Sob, sob, where is my name?
What is my name?
Was I going to be named A, B, C or Z?
No, my sense, when it was not only a trapped spirit heard a voice full of buzz,
A sweet voice sang to me, Mikhaela, Mikhaela,
Mikhaela, oh Mikhaela

Was that to be my name?
I'm not Mikhaela,
There was no ceremony to name me,
I have no name

What was I to be, a girl, a boy?
Was I to be light, dark?
Was my nose to be sharp, hair curly and rich black?

Sob, sob, what do the others conceived in my time look like, like me?
Do they today life and its spoils enjoy?
Was I to play with them?
Was I to give mama and papa joy, pain, joy, pain, perhaps joy?

Trapped, trapped, will I ever escape this dark place?
At least it has a name,
And surely I don't have

Trapped trapped, will my spirit ever escape,
But I have to rejoice,
My spirit, in this dark place, must have a reason to rejoice,
For I hear mama walk, dance, sing,
And I feel her express her love,
Where is my itsy bitsy of the spoils?
Must I demand it? No, me, spirit –
I can’t make demands. No rights

When do I die as a spirit?
My body is no more, it has never been,
My eyes, with fire of the sun were never lit

Sob sob, I only die when mama is no more and stops to dance,
NO, I MUST PROTECT MAMA, I must protect mama, sob some more,
But I need to look out for my own plans,
What plans? I’m a lingering spirit banished forever in a dark place

Sob sob, I sob not for me,
I sob for mama’s protection so she doesn’t die,
But what of me?

Sob sob, I’ll linger in her womb,
No, my spirit will linger – it must not be a bomb,
Till she is no more

But no, I must protect mama.
Sob sob.

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Izz on spontaneity

Spontaneity comes with great responsibility. But because of the nature of the speed and casualty of the moment, many miss the need for the two to march as a pair. - Izz

Spontaneity must not equal insanity especially when people use it as an excuse to express their laziness for having not employed effort to stretch their minds the night before. - Izz

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Izz on the heart and the mind

A man is a better man when he can live his life dancing to the song of his heart than struggling to hear the broken record playing from his fellow's house. - Izz

When the heart and the mind have a pact, that the heart shall lead through guidance and light, and that the mind shall plot through creativity and ingenuity, then a wiser person is born. Pity pop culture only allows that to only happen when the head is grey and the days numbered. - Izz

It is not easy, or possible, to hear the song in your heart when the mind is gallivanting in the depths of the noise of the world. Quiten your mind Sir, ... Mam. - Izz

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Izz on conflict and ego

Beneath each conflict, personal and commune; small and large, lies a misunderstanding that could be resolved were egos to be left at the door and love allowed to prevail. - Izz

Conflicts are misunderstandings whose masters are often found to be egos. - Izz

It is when we fail to compromise, when tolerance doesn't characterise the fabric of our hearts that we fight, to death if be, our fellows, forgetting that by doing so, we are fighting our hearts' cry to connect and love. - Izz

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