A Bellow Unto Ire

eBay: My words are not accompanied by thunders, yet, its lightening thunders the pen from whose ink the words are birthed. An Eve clone, in this starless night has grabbed my knob to stab me with bellows of how the isle of “Shes” has been made to stoop by the cause of Nature’s laws, in service to the “Hes” without commendation. These bloody tears dancing across her cheeks must truly represent pain. Brothers! We must summon our inner ears!


Shakira: Man in this house listen, for my voice is not a bellow unto ire, yet listen, you who will, whilst i bring proof. How perforce must she be content to stoop? She falls by cause of Nature’s law. She succumbs to being caught up in the race, yet you commend not. Listen, man in this house and tell me, why has she the ineffable on man’s tongue been restrained aside the strength of many a man she radiates? Procreating, giving back and yet, left to bear the pain alone. Tell me, man in this house, for my voice is too hungry to wait.


eBay: The sword with which you run me is sharp, although yesterday, you sat on my lap. The purpose with which you are sent, my lady, would make anyone’s head bent, it’s shady. But if the understanding is like a tent one can rent or like a package one can buy with a cent, i bet Professor Kent would have been more equipped than people we knew as God-sent. The pain you bear and the tears you wear are surely what we see and hear. Even though you could not see at labour that we were near and shared your fear, but always, we were always standing at the rear, praying to help you surmount the challenge that Nature had placed on you and your peer to bear. Look at the mirror and see that not all of us are blind. Hear and believe, my dear.


Shakira: You say that, clone of Adam? Where were you when she was left to burn and burn again? Why did you leave her to become so turned, so weak while your silent choice has brought deep fear to her heart? You light up stars inside of her, only to nail the memories to her tears. Her voice was lost and she couldn’t speak. Her thirst was left to linger while she settled with the hope of someday growing the wings to fly again.


eBay: The food to feed the house is what the gent has gone to find, but the desert that breathes in his pockets, tortures his mind. Only with shame he mates with the hind; a Nature’s fold to blind, and look at the butterflies, saying this is kind. Oh clone of Eve! Think not that the man is a thief, his mind was just never made to be heavier than a leaf, that when he sees another maiden beyond the sleeves, flies away from you above the cliffs.


Shakira: Well, the man in the house, being alone has given her the hope to fly again. You were never to her a blessing anyway. I see her in her ardour, and i see the shine, she who has chosen to give her milk with ease to that that so much needs it for growth.


eBay: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. If a woman does not want to look into happiness through another woman’s eyes, she must be aware that love looks not with the eyes and does not live on tongues. Men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but never for love. Although a woman is a man’s blessing, but Nature does not permanently make a man a woman’s joy. I, Lord eBay will try my best in disappointing Nature and respond not to the sinful requests of my flesh. I will adore my woman, if devil dresses her not.


Shakira: Poll out the beats of drum, in her celebration; our celebration. In the fete of her adulation, in an orgy so befitting of one so fitting. It is she the Supreme created who in her restraints radiates the strength of many a man, of many a god, of many power hustled into one stream. The strength of men she is!


Lord eBay


Ms. Shakirat Kikelomo Moronkeji


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