A TALE OF THE WIND!!! PART 2

Oya suddenly appeared in his arms and he clung onto her, he whispered sweet words into her hear and danced back to his palace with a goddess in his arms. Thus, Oya was married to Sango.

TRIAL!!!
Oya was bedded but she couldn’t bear a soul. Sacrifices were made to the air, the trees, the water and all that were worshipped but she was made without a womb and from her Sango would never had an heir to his throne; yet the throne of his forefathers must not be left for strangers to inherit. He sought the temple of the goddess of the river and took Osun the fairest among her daughters as his bride.
Osun’s barrels were filled with seeds and she filled his courtyard with sundries. Sons and daughters permeate his temple but Sango never had one like himself; often he prayed to Olodumare, hoped and longed for one like himself; charming, strong and crafty. But despite the sundries from the daughter of the river, Sango took another from the daughters of the tree.
Oba begat children for Sango but still never one like him. In his rage over the inadequacies of his household, he had begun to spill fire; every utterance that was spoken with rage was accompanied with fire and he conflagrated his palace at the naming of one of his sons. He had spoken with dissatisfaction that fire spilled out of his mouth on his courtyard and his temple was burned to ashes.

Turns in time and trials are inimitable components of human existence. Will, passion and desires cloud their days but the turns that made their existence are borne in mystery. I had lost my goddess prowess when you began to spill fire. The rumbles of striking flashes of my lightning had been lost in the sky since I deserted my temple to follow my heart into humanity; I was no more a goddess when you were becoming a god. Olodumare must have granted you beyond your wishes, yet you were a man without contentment. You desired all the kingdoms of the world and an heir like yourself; one that would spill fire and be blessed beyond normal humanity.
I was a woman Sango when you deserted my bed in search of glory, when you forgot my pleasure in sakes of war and quest for more territories, when you left the longings of my anal to rust at its crust. Yet my godlessness was the key to your godliness.

TURNS!!!
Out of the care of the world and limitless wander across its bay, Esu appeared in Oyo and set to disrupt the usual flow. With his cunning tongue and deceptive utterances, he set his heart to change the course of history and utter the mysteries of the mystical existences. He was present at the palace of Sango and asked for a meeting with the great king.
‘Sango, in my limitless saunter across the borders of the world, and my several exploitations into the hearts of men; I hadn’t seen any man or king as great as you are. You are even greater than Oduduwa the ancestor of all men.’ Esu spoke in flattery manners as he engaged Sango in a serious conversation in his palace. He had refused a seat but squatted before the king.
‘I was born with greatness and I had labored for greatness. I had become great, greater than the greatness of any man and god.’ Sango boasted before the great deceiver.
‘But Sango, I can still perceive emptiness in you; unquenchable longings that cannot be set before any man or god; Olodumare seemed to have blocked his hears to your pleas. But a god must be one without longings or emptiness, one who possess absolute contentment.’ Esu invoked the hidden contemplations of Sango and he was made to unsettle his greatest desire before him.
‘I want to be regarded as a god among men, I want to be worshipped, and live forever in their hearts. I want them to have great temples of me and I want an heir that would fill my throne when I cease to live as a man.’ He subjected his pleas to the feet of Esu. Still, Esu asked about the potential heirs that filled his court, but Sango had none like himself among them.
‘Ogun must be killed before you can become a god Sango, you must summon him to war and destroy him. Only then can you truly be a god and all your wishes would be reality.’ Esu lured Sango into a deception before carrying the message of war into the temple of Ogun. The juncture of heaven, hell and earth was chosen for the famed war, but Esu wasn’t done with his deceptions. His cunning prowess was beyond boundaries.

Esu knew of the longings of my anal Sango, he knew how long you had deserted my bed and allowed my affections to wane in loneliness, he knew how much I had sought for your manhood and how many nights I had wept for your attention. But my affection for you was beyond any form of infidelity, I wish you had known.

Esu with the promises of greatness implored Gbonka, the finest among Sango’s warriors to seek the attention and affection of Oya. ‘Oya’s affection is the secret of Sango’s greatness and he had deserted her bed for moons. Have an intercourse with her, forcefully or willfully and you shall be greater than your king.’ He had assured Gbonka and led him to the hut of Oya before departing to inform Sango of Gbonka’s presence in Oya’s chamber.
Sango had rushed with fury into her chamber and met Gbonka with his loved wife. He made to utter fire on the duo but was met with lightning. The earth was met with astute darkness as Oya disappeared with striking lightning.

I was the wind before your fire Sango, the looming in the sky before your rain and the lightning before your deafening strikes of thunder. I was the fire that spill from your mouth and the vigour of your famous conquests. You were the greatest among men but I was the god in your manliness. In my existence, only absolute and utter excitement, like the one I found in your passionate and affectionate lure of rhythmic movement could reveal my visible. And an undiluted anger, a livid conflagration from my depth would make me to cease from existence, cease from being your bride, and cease the fire you spill; into the lightning that I would forever be. You should have trusted my fidelity, you should have known the deceit in Esu’s tongue, and you should have been contented with your manliness.

END!!!
Oya was gone, and so was the fire from Sango’s mouth; Gbonka challenged him into a battle and the war with Ogun at the juncture of heaven, hell and earth was looming. Sango ran back into his chamber and could find nothing in himself beyond humanity. Like an epiphany, he realized that end is the basic of all human existence, and as the rage of Gbonka, the mockery smiles of Esu and the iron arms of Ogun approached his chamber. He sought a rope and hung his own neck.
I was not a woman so I could cry; I was not a soul so I could weep my heart out. I am Oya, the goddess of wind and lightning and the bride of the god of iron and war. As you submit your soul into eternity and fulfilled the destiny you had chosen. I weep on the earth with my lightning, and in my rage, embedded with the fury of your lost; my wind formed into a rumble. And the earth witnessed a thunder. Your soul in hell would never know Sango, that men still worship you as a god after you had died as a man. I wish you had been contented with your humanities; for this tale, plowing through time into eternity would have been that of a hero.

Written by Oladipupo Oluwafemi

Powered by akoniolusola.blogspot.com

A TALE OF THE WIND!!!

Inception!!!
I never tell my story; even now it is not told. This is but a whisper into the portals of time, a silence breezed through the winking of the sky, a mutter ramming bye the bliss of oracles and a blathering tale of the wind; the testimony of my existence, Oya, the striking lightning before the rumbles of deafening thunder.
I was Oya before you, Sango. I was the storm that blew on the icy windy eve of creation, the wind that travelled the world when darkness was roundabout the universe and the spirit of Olodumare was but a movement on still water. I was, before time tickled, before the unraveling of cloud and space, before the wind of the ocean drew the first of its breaths.
I had lived without a soul before you were breathed into existence, for in my spirit I was the wind before your fire, the looming in the sky before your rain and the lightning before your thundering thunder, but in my existence; I was a goddess made for a god, the bride that never bore you a soul. The mystery of our story was to be lost in eternity; left as a whisper in the annals of time.

The time is lost in the track of time, for then there was no time. Light and darkness were not distinguished but embedded in shades and rays, in mysterious reflection of higher beings. And the earth, the sky and all its bodies were mere conception in the mind of the creator. The water was icy and still and the breeze breathed in silence; silence was noisy, and echoes were lost in eternal shrill. Only the eternal spirit of Olodumare moves on water before his first four oracles were breathed into existence. Orunmila, to be his priest; the one who listens to his heart and the hearts of subsequent beings, Oduduwa, Ogun and Sango; the oracles and definer of the earth to be. 
They stood before the staff of authority of Olodumare, for the most high was never to be seen. Orunmila invoked the heart of the eternal one and was commanded to ask the trio to choose a destiny, for their lives would be the compass of creation and subsequent beings would form their destinies in theirs.
Oduduwa knelt before the staff with his gentle frame and slender marrows, before the invisible presence of Olodumare and spoke out his choice. The first voice before creation altered the usual shrill and the sound thrills the wind on the icy sea. ‘Olodumare, the king and maker of all that be and would be; the one who sees but cannot be seen. My choice is but a simple one; to be a king and the father of all that would be in your likeness, to live and die, only but a king.’
Ogun knelt beside him with a shield at his chest and metal roundabout his head, his eyes sparkled with red and he spoke hurriedly without courtesies. ‘I want to be a god, to be revered and worshiped as one from you, to live and die but live forever, and to be powerful. I want to be the god of all wars, battles and metals; the god of all that could spill blood from mortals.’
Sango was gentle, but his mildness bore a slightness of seeming danger; he was bare without character and his personalities seemed far from his physicality. He moved rhythmically on the snowy sea with his head bow, his eyes were lost in the frozen dew, dropping in timeless successions as he spoke softly in tunes. He merely chose to live and be awarded a life full of choices, to explore the earth and only be limited by his own end; in his choices he begged for choices. He had chosen to be a man.
Somewhere in the shadows of the frozen sea and snowy dew, Esu seemed to have witnessed all the processions. He must have been breathed out before or after the oracles. His presence was a mystery lost in eternity.
For Oduduwa, the sea was commanded to be a bride. Olokun stood fair in the colors of water and made to form in the opposite of man; her nature was of beauty and her saunter was of wonder. Oduduwa and Olokun were to be the ancestors of all men and they walked hand in hand into the new world. Thus the sea was allowed to unfreeze as it was now the bride of the king and the mother of all men that would be born. And the sea flow endlessly into the dawn of time.
The wind was settled by the creator and I was made a bride for Ogun. I, Oya, the shrill of the firmament and the mild rumble in the icy dew became a bride of the oracle and a wife to the god of iron and battles. The cloud rumbled as I was formed, and I breathed my peace into the new world with lightning before I became a woman. In my new form, I watched you Sango as you disappeared into eternity, for you must wait to be born. In the strong hand of Ogun as his bride, your personality was the first wonder I knew, your voice was the first music that was ever heard.

TIME!!!
After a seeming century, Sango was begat as a prince to Oranmiyan in the province of Oyo where he later became a king. He was charming beyond the flairs of all the men of his generation, his shoulders were built broadly and his arms were formed with potent muscles; he grew in likes of a giant and became a master of all skills. His voice was of melodious tunes and his legs were shaped to balance with the rhythmic movements of all dances. Sango was strong and undefeated in battle, his angelic voice was the marvel of all mortals and his dancing skill was excellent; beyond the praises of a poet. He was a god in likeness of man.
Every king must find a suitable bride; one that would grace his palace with magnificence and fill his courts with the aura of her splendor. But Sango couldn’t find one so pleasant among the damsels of his time; he sought the temple of Ogun for the affection of his goddess wife.

I remember the day you came for me, the movements with which you ambled into my temple. Your movements were vaguely precise, moving in successions beyond the comprehension of a goddess. I remember your form before inception but you looked more glorious, and the smiles that embroidered your face were what I had longed for in eternity. I had hoped for you Sango before you thought of me.
You had chosen the time carefully, for you came when Ogun had gone to oversee one of the ceaseless wars among men. You came with servants, bearing agate beads and sacrifices for my temple and you dazzled my temple with great movements. Before you spoke I had seen your thoughts, I had known the impossibility you were about to wish for, but I waited for your utterances; I waited for the music I had known before time.
‘Oya,’ you called my name and it rang in tunes beyond eternity. The echo of your voice rammed about my temple and tickled my anal, but I waited for more; I waited to hear you plead for my affection.
Did you know that I could hear your thoughts, did you know Sango, that I knew everything you had planned to say immediately you stepped your feet into my temples? For instead of uttering, you summoned your drummers and started a merry in my temple. You summoned me with you movements and I was lost within myself. You movements untangled my invisibility.

Sango danced for hours before the temple of Oya. His drummers were tired but he made them to magnify the tempo of their beats. When his vigor was waned and his marrows began to creak, he reduced the rhythm of his movements to form a plea and summoned the goddess into a tango; he begged Oya to dance with him, right beside his masculinity.
Oya suddenly appeared in his arms and...

To be continued...
Written by Oluwafemi Oladipupo

HABIT

I am your constant companion. I am your greatest helper and your heaviest burden.  I will push you onward or drag you down to failure. I am completely at your command. Half of the things you do you might just as well turn over to me and I will be able to do them quickly and correctly. I am easily managed – you must merely be firm with me. Show me exactly how you want something done and after a few lesson I will do it automatically.
I am the servant of all great men; and alas of all failure as well. Those who are great I have made great. Those who are failures I have made failures. I am not a machine though I work with all precision of a machine plus the intelligence of a man. You may run me for profit or run me for ruin-it makes no difference to me. Take me train me be firm with me, and I will place the world at your feet. Be easy with me and I will destroy you.
I am HABIT….

“Habit is an action performed repeatedly and automatically, usually without awareness” or “a routine of behavior that is repeated regularly and tends to occur subconsciously” therefore your habit over a long period of time becomes you. The question is “WHO ARE YOU” I don’t mean to be rude but this should be a normal term or question everyone should ask him/herself even while standing in front of a mirror the mirror should  speak to you about your personality. Everyone knows who you are through your normal daily behavior
“I am your constant companion” most times this come to mind and creates a very big concern to those who give thought to things that matter.  Habit is a shadow; It goes everywhere with us, the way individual places him/herself to the sun is the appearance of his/her shadow therefore your relationship with the next person to you brings out the real you, and the real you is your habit….
A Habit from the stand point of psychology is a more or less fixed way of thinking, willing or feeling acquired through the previous repetition of mental experience. Your habit is the product of your thinking and thinking controls your life. Thinking control determines emotion, emotional control determines self-control, self-control determines attitude, and attitude determines habit. The background of a man have a great influence on habit, life style and daily activities, no doubt about this but if you have a great thinking culture which is portrait in your behavior, then your background won’t be able to dig your back to the ground. Your habit is your beauty (Yoruba adage), are you beautiful?
“Take me train me be firm with me, and I will place the world at your feet. Be easy with me and I will destroy you.” How do control yourself and how hard do you control your habit? Habit is like a smoke no matter how you hide it, it will sure leak out (Yoruba adage), I believe habit is like a house, if you build it in a good manner it will be beautiful, if you build it on the other way round, well you the outcome… Good news is, no matter how hard or complicated life gets or how unfriendly the habitat may seem, good habit make a difference. A change of habit helps us to move far beyond expectation. One of the beauties of life is that you don’t know what lies ahead for tomorrow’s reality.
In 2009/2010, I had a conversation with my bunk mate back in school, talking about realities of life, after much argument, Mr Adeeko said; Olusola listen Rome/road was not built in a day they say, but the Sayers always forget to say “it was built by builders”. Habit is like a tree planted, that needs to be monitored, watered and nurtured. Habit is like a child that needs nourishment to grow, build your habit in preparation for days to come.
Habit starts from; how you eat, how you dress, your relationship with the people around you, how do you control yourself in terms of difficult situations? These are some of the questions we should put into considerations
Note that your habit controls your life… prepare for tomorrow yet unborn…

FIRST LOVE...

The first time I saw her face, she wore a smile,
Coming to this world she gave me the life,
All my world she got, I just hope I'm right,
She's making my dreams true,she got my back.

My first love, my rare Gem, my one and only,
Son! U need a lot of patience, that's what she taught me,
Life is not a bed of roses, believe you'll make it,
Impatience only leads to the 6ft valley.

Her prayers, her tutors, and everything she is,
the reason, for my season and the point of my peace,
You are a crank my dear son and you need to believe in it,
Stop dreaming in reality, and make your dreams real.

Ghetto was the home, mat was the foam,
She has never stop believing in me and calls me her own,
 War was so fierce with no battle line drawn,
The time is now, making it real, wondering where I'm from?

Her Silence brings the loudest voice,
Falling off the right path, she's the only one I trust,
Gentle voice of advice, but sounds like a gong,
Mother you are forever here, for you I'll write my songs.

Teach my son the courage to be impatience,
Give him the reason to be wise even among the rest,
Give him fun, give him time and reasons to be first,
I know him a great future, that my mother said.

The greatest obstacle to you is the victims mentality,
Even to the future, don't make this a reality,
Your thinking with this reason brings abnormality,
Don't ever think you can't do it, take up the responsibility

The world out there is ugly and trusting someone is death,
Don't ever rest until your good become best,
Until time to say I made it and beat up your chest,
Trust no one, only on God you should put your rest.

The best mother in the world is the one I got,
Even with all my Gold, her price I can't afford,
Thinking of her word, worries over board,
She gave me the love I can never afford.

THE CLOUDS ARE GATHERING 2(TWO)

He drove into my hostel around noon in his black Peugeot, the car was painted black and its glasses were darkly tainted. He was just as dark with mushy moustache; he was tall with a gentle pointed nose and a feminine body frame; slimmed and trimmed like a female model. No wonder he sounded epicene on phone. ‘Yeah I look a lot like my Mother.’ He spoke as I stood and looked at him with apparent amazement.

‘No wonder the mushy moustache, something must stand you out as a man.’ I felt so close and familiar with him and sat comfortably in his car. I didn’t even ask where he was taking me to.

As much as I dread downfall, I cannot deny its striking amazement, the seeming wonder of strokes of water and the wetness the earth would soak up in due time. Bright, dark or murky, rain is not a respecter of time or events and it strikes when it pleases. But life isn’t a stream of coincidences; it is actions that breed reactions and reactions actions. The clouds that now gathered to fall were dense of water, synthesized from my dryness and made to form into concrete strokes of scary drops.

I knew when he drove me into a bar and ordered drinks for me, when he kept pouring the tasty liquid into my glass and I kept drinking, I knew it tasted sweet, sour and itchy and my throat consequently thirst for more. I knew I felt liberated and said things I never thought I could utter, I even flirted with him and it all seemed too easy. He took me to dance and I danced and laughed as if I never existed before that moment, before I lost consciousness I knew I had known fun and it was wild, crazy and exciting but that was all I knew till I woke up in my bed naked and dizzy and Sanda was just gone.

Everything seemed normal and my skin felt cold as if I had just bathed. I stood and managed myself into the bathroom and found the clothes I wore yester night soaked inside a bucket with detergent. I tried to clean up but I was already cleaned except my mouth that still seriously smelled of alcohol. So I brushed and decided to call Sanda but I was shocked to death by what I heard. ‘The number you are trying to call does not exist, please check…’ I hung up and tried again and again but the result was the same so I decided to check him on Facebook and leave him a message but the account does not exist and even the chat history was gone. Now I was confident it was all a dream, but I was torn between what part was reality and was part was the dream, because Sanda seemed so real and how did I wake up naked on my bed on Sunday the 15^th. Maybe I had just dreamed the whole thing throughout valentine. But what about the soaked cloth in the bathroom, the smell of alcohol in my mouth, and the number saved as Sanda on my phone. This must be madness, I need a psychologist.

                                               

Every day I wake up with a thought of Sanda, and then I had no thought of him at all because he had existed neither in my dream nor in my reality, because Stephen Sanda does not exist anywhere. I took up my average life of sleeping, waking up and schooling till the semester was over and I went back home to my parents. Mum called me into her room on my third day at home. ‘Jennifer, when was the last time you saw your period? She asked mildly as if I may be afraid to answer but I was simply perplexed. My mother had never spoken about period or no period with me since I was 10.

‘Huh? My period?’

‘Yes, your menstruation!’ now her voice was slightly raised and I wondered what for?

‘I’m even on my period right now. What’s the question about period for mummy?’ I was getting curios too.

‘Have you started having sex?’ Sex? I had never heard my mother uttered that word, at least not with such bareness.

‘Mum, I’m still a virgin. What’s up with all this questions?’

‘You are pregnant Jennifer. I’m your mother; don’t dare lie to me again.’

‘Pregnant!!!’ I shouted. I meant it as a question but my word was emphatic. I wished I could just fall down and faint but that was another thing I had never done.

It was four months and yet my period came every month and stopped the month my Mum discovered I was pregnant. Stephen Sanda was gone, or he never existed but he was present within me and I bear the testimony of his existence. The clouds gathered and yet shall soon fall, but there are consequences for every downfall, for the earth will have to soak up the waters and prepare for germinations. No one will believe my story, not even the Sanda within me and so earth shall be dry again and the memory of the gathered clouds and the downfall will fade in expectance of another. Maybe I’ve dreamt it all and I dread nothing, not even the impending rain.

THE CLOUDS ARE GATHERING

THE CLOUDS ARE GATHERING

The clouds are gathering! Now I hear rumbles from within me, quakes of water, warring and warning of an impending downfall. I hear it at night; the kicks and movement of gathered water, threatening to break the membrane of soft cells that holds it at bay, the warnings come at noon, eve and even before day breaks. It looms like an inevitable gong of impending war, and I dread it; like a child fears the sight of sprinkling blood. I fear the heaviness of the rain, the portals of strong strokes falling rapidly in succession, the eaves and breaths of the sky descending uncontrollably down the earth and the eventual wetness that slumps red earth into slums, and drain the soil of all its dryness. I dread many things and every thing about the rain, but nothing more like the gathered cloud, the terrestrial rumbles from above, rambling through portals and causing shivers, the wind of gathered cloud, splashing in lightening and thundering thunders. But the downpour I now fear threatens from within me and soon it will rain.

It all started with dryness on a valentine day, every downpour begins with one. I woke up with a sudden thirst, a drive and cravings for excitement. The day was young but I felt bored, like my entire existence had been clouded with dryness, and I had been shrink and compressed into an average soul within myself. I was still in bed, gradually rising into consciousness, but I had nothing to look forward to in a day that should have been promising, I couldn’t start wondering why I had lived such an uneventful life but I laid down and sunk deeper into the comforts of my pillow and remembered Sanda, he was the reason for all this negative feelings I was now feeling.

Stephen Sanda! I met him on Facebook on Friday the 13^th as he termed it, a day that should have been filled with excitement and fun for him if not for the election that was supposed to be on the 14^th. He wanted to throw a party on the night before val but couldn’t due to the planned election, and when the election was postponed, it was too late to start organizing a party so he laid down on his bed that night and decided to open a Facebook account, and the first damsel he would see on the social network was me. At least that was the story he told me, and it was too flattering for me to pass up as a lie or joke.

I wasn’t a social network addict, or a Facebook fan for that matter, I was the type of person that could lie comfortably in bed all day and refuse to go online talk less of replying messages or accepting friend requests on Facebook. But Friday the 13^th was different; I decided to go through my Facebook wall, read posts and comments and even reply some messages, then I saw a new request coming in to join the endless stream of requests that I had simply ignored.But Sanda??? I thought the person must have meant to type Sandra and out of curiosity and perplexity I accepted the request and then found out the account belongs to a guy and I was his only Facebook friend. He looked cute though.

‘So your name is Sanda and I am your only friend here. Are you stalking me?’ I wrote on his wall and he replied almost immediately. ‘Yeah bae! Every beauty deserves a stalker.’ I chuckled loudly and replied ‘Well I don’t need sanda as my first stalker. Sanda???’

‘But my name is Sanda! At least thatwas the name my parent chose for me.’ He messaged me and that was how we started chatting. From random courtesies to personal experiences; we chatted deep into the night and eventually conversed about plans for Val and our lustful Val wishes, but I had none. I was a big time novice without any sexual or lustful experiences, and that was when he started making me feel boring and average, like I’ve lived but never lived, as fun and excitement had simply eluded me.

I had never stayed awake beyond 10pm before Friday the 13^th, I may be able to dance but I’ve never tried so I don’t even know if my body can move in rhythms with music, I don’t 0have any close friend; at least close enough to know the things I had never done, I had never tasted any alcoholic substance, I had never gone to visit a guy; talk less of having a boyfriend or kissing, I had never done anything that was beyond average and I had never confessed all this to anyone apart from Sanda. He seemed close and wild with a seeming sense of understanding and adventure as he began to make me feel like there may be more to me than this me, or there may be more to life than sleeping, waking up and schooling. I eventually slept off on the chats, but my mind kept pondering on how dry my life had all been and I craved wetness with an intensity that I never knew existed in me.

 I was still ruminating on my miseries on valentine day when my phone rang. ‘Hey it’s Sanda, happy Val and how was your night damsel?’ He sounded epicene; I couldn’t place the voice as either masculine or feminine. ‘Did I give you my number?’ I was curious and it was another thing I had never done before; dish out my number to an absolute stranger. ‘Yeah you did! You said you were sleepy and I should call you in the morning.’ Of course I did and I knew I did.

‘But Sanda, who the hell are you?’

‘Your stalker Simi, I thought we established that.’ He sounded so close and familiar and I began to crave him too.

‘Will you be my Val?’I asked before I knew it.

                                                *****

ISOLATED KINGDOM :PART 4

Wake up great KINGDOM and let go of the pains, Summon courage and take all your strength back, Have confidence in sunshine, have confidence in the rains, have confidence in confidence alone till sprinkles come again, oh! have confidence in yourself. Let go of your pains and wear new shoes; shoes leading to the path of your glory, shoes of a new beginning, shoes of comfort, shoes of secured future for the unborn generations, new shoes which bring nothing but the blessing of the one who sees the earth from beyond the heavens. Great KINGDOM, Redeem yourself and heal your land, Open new chapters and make this situations by gone. Dear KINGDOM your closest friends are strangers, hate that about yourself, this is making you vulnerable; let go of caterpillars and make butterflies your close friends. Learn to listen to the truth even the ugly ones , learn to bring out bravery in your stupidity, make yourself the happiest of your kind. Great KINGDOM the time is now; this time is like a golden watch No other time than the present, purge yourself of your dirty habit, board your flying eagle to a place of great destination. Know that Strength doesn't lie in numbers, strength doesn't lie in weight, strength lies in peaceful slumber when you wake up...

Ask for your own crown and that which you may win, oh! My KINGDOM build a paradise for yourself and assure you are truly free from your shackles. Burn thy will into the mind of thy seeds until they truly believe in your strength, teach them to love you even when it hurts, teach them to fight for you when their strength grow faint, teach them to love themselves, to have love in their hatred, to have friends in the mist of their enemies. There's no joy of death other than death for one's brown dirt. Give them reasons to have taste for greatness even in their sickness and dying breathe. It takes only a little yeast to make a whole dough rise, and drops of water make the ocean, believe in power of unity and listen to what the wind whispers to your ears. Let the rain of victory come one more time, let the taste of glory be felt once again... Make it available for your self, no matter how much your freedom cost. Be hard , be a steel, be a rock for this might stand you for the storm, and might guide you among sudden betrayers and tighten you for slack moments. Have lazy days seeking your motives, seek deep to where you were born natural.

Dear kingdom wisdom is calling on the street and knowledge is knocking on your door, to help you build your fallen walls. Nothing more can give joy to the enemies than your downfall. Give your enemies reasons to doubt your decisions, make them believe in your foolishness and keep your wisdom at the inner part of your appearance, take them by surprise at their sleeping moment and put an end to their threatening thunders... Make for yourself a golden armour, retrieve back your silver blade, put forward army of siege And make your home safe. The best way to love your land is to openly express your love for your seeds and give them reasons to have a lot of patience. Keep an open mind and Give ears to the words of WISDOM...

TAKE BACK YOUR GLORY AND BUILD FOR YOURSELF MANSIONS OF GREAT LEGEND! DEAR KINGDOM OF WHOM MY GRANDMOTHER SING, I HAVE EVER KNOWN YOU!!!