BY GLORIA O’KOYE

War without logic,

Is like planting seeds without knowing,

The seasons in which the seedlings

Will rise and thrive to the heavens.

War strictly on emotions and passion,

Is like showering the seeds

With overwhelming resources

Without strategy.

Too much water, sun and soil

With no calculations can cause

Undetected diseases to destroy

A seed’s crucial foundation.

A society that follows social media justice,

Is doomed when things get real.

Protection warranty behind twitter fingers,

Keyboard warriors,

Would defeat the right to remain silence

During mischief court hearings.

Without teachings and common sense,

Fear tactics will prevail.

If one enters a movement to find love,

To make friends,

Dangers of destruction are at hand.

Those will come natural

But can never be promised,

How many organizers fall victim

To the matters of the heart.

They gradually forgotten why they were in

This the first place,

This journey can be lonely throughout.

An elder and veteran with years of

Political warfare once told the emerging

Youth,

This war is not for the faint of heart.

You must use logic,

Must use your head.

The heart,

Is the reason to push

But it can never lead without the brain

And a plan.

Or be prepared to lose the war in a

Quick pace,

This life has no space for childish games.

Remember the people need to win!

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

A rejuvenating, sweet, innocent newborn scent that can melt the coldest of hearts.

A salve that soothes the itchiness left by worldly scars.

First of everything,

From smiles to sounds can bring peace

Piercing heavy clouds.

The purity of a child brings wisdom that can humble

The wisest of teachers from afar.

In the first few weeks of life,

Skin-to-skin between parents and child,

It can strengthen lifelong bonds.

It promotes life through connections,

Never underestimate true parental love.

The love of a child can save lives,

Can uplift even when dangling by a thread

Above the turbulent winds

And treacherous seas of fear and doubt.

The love of a parent

Can break the lineage of trauma and hurt,

Uproot tainted family trees

In ways that insanity has no way in,

Only culture and traditions can come to full fruition

As they fully sprout.

Sweet child,

Don’t ever say that you are never enough.

You came just in time

When the glimmer of hope wants to dim out.

A love of a child

The mind of a child,

Is what the world constantly lacks.

Only a childlike faith can enter the gates of heaven,

Surpassing forefathers who grew cold from a dying world

Lies and deceit,

A child will heal those wounds and breathe in life.

That power

Sweet child,

No one can ever take it away,

It is highly favored from beyond human comprehension,

Continue to be you

Sweet child.

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

In faith,

Would the love that  gets publicly

Professed be like

Clanging cymbals when things don’t

Go exactly as they were prayed.

Where every detailed fine print of wants

Instead of needs are not fulfilled,

Will the tongue curse more than counting

All the unspoken grace.

Would the thank you shape shift

Into why me and hate you.

Would I love you transition into I wish

I never believed in you.

Was the spiritual connection

A one way relationship scandal.

In love

If all the materialistic things disappear

Or prenup

Would it survive till death due us part?

Would the physical qualities dim down

Like day and night

Be the reason to set sail to foreign lands

To conquer, forgetting what home was

About.

In parenthood,

Would the love be tainted if the bloodlines

Was not solely yours?

Would it be unconditional if challenges

Arise?

Would gentle or traditional ways help

Resolve conflicts as first words turn

To power struggles as the babies

Grow, would the love not be tested

By time?

Would love be the solution

Like how romanticize society made it to be

Like it answers all.

Is Love without action and only fairytale

Filled words truly mean love?