Nojoto: Largest Storytelling Platform
Download Nojoto

Install App Get upto ₹ 100 Cash

GROWING PAINS Lost. Time and time again the feel

GROWING PAINS Lost. Time and time again the feeling of being out of touch, surfaced after every prayer, I begged and begged for something greater then what I had for something that was equivalent to all the sacrifices on my hands. But, Still, time and time again I waited and waited and still, I left as I entered, empty with empty promises made to my heart. Tears rolled over my skin, always giving more hope, with the warmth they bring. Pain was all over my chest, and thoughts of death seemed to be my best chance at a better life. I could swear it, I was not broken, something was stolen, missing, taken without permission. Finally. I gave in. I made it my mission to find all that was taken from me. I surrendered to my intuition and rose I did like a black phenix I rose from the pale ashes I did nothing but get onto my feet. I started running, I  chased the wind without ever slowing down. I had the push of a broken man, a man who has lost his dignity in the midst of a crowd. I ran without pride I had pure hurt in my heart, but never a frown. With every leap taken, It felt like a step back into time. It was only as a time traveler that I found my stolen treasure. I saw the man I was and the man I should become, all I got from the past. Free. I have never been free, to run is all I know, it is all that I believe. The wings might as well go. For they serve no purpose at all, they tie me to the earth's floor. The best I can do to touch the sky is run with the hope that I will jump high enough to stay off the ground, long enough to feel the freedom just before I descend to the ground. I have wings but I do not know how to fly. Maybe if I run fast enough, maybe if I jump high enough. A black phenix rose from pale ashes he did nothing but stand on his two feet. He stood and stood, then one day black overtook his mind. He was shook, a vibration from within penetrated his soul. He flew looking like a black angel beneath the silhouette of the moon. He flew with all his might. His soul was home once again as he kept flying, singing his ancestors song. Joy was the boy. Joy was the song.
GROWING PAINS Lost. Time and time again the feeling of being out of touch, surfaced after every prayer, I begged and begged for something greater then what I had for something that was equivalent to all the sacrifices on my hands. But, Still, time and time again I waited and waited and still, I left as I entered, empty with empty promises made to my heart. Tears rolled over my skin, always giving more hope, with the warmth they bring. Pain was all over my chest, and thoughts of death seemed to be my best chance at a better life. I could swear it, I was not broken, something was stolen, missing, taken without permission. Finally. I gave in. I made it my mission to find all that was taken from me. I surrendered to my intuition and rose I did like a black phenix I rose from the pale ashes I did nothing but get onto my feet. I started running, I  chased the wind without ever slowing down. I had the push of a broken man, a man who has lost his dignity in the midst of a crowd. I ran without pride I had pure hurt in my heart, but never a frown. With every leap taken, It felt like a step back into time. It was only as a time traveler that I found my stolen treasure. I saw the man I was and the man I should become, all I got from the past. Free. I have never been free, to run is all I know, it is all that I believe. The wings might as well go. For they serve no purpose at all, they tie me to the earth's floor. The best I can do to touch the sky is run with the hope that I will jump high enough to stay off the ground, long enough to feel the freedom just before I descend to the ground. I have wings but I do not know how to fly. Maybe if I run fast enough, maybe if I jump high enough. A black phenix rose from pale ashes he did nothing but stand on his two feet. He stood and stood, then one day black overtook his mind. He was shook, a vibration from within penetrated his soul. He flew looking like a black angel beneath the silhouette of the moon. He flew with all his might. His soul was home once again as he kept flying, singing his ancestors song. Joy was the boy. Joy was the song.
thokozaninkabind5586

Thokozani Nkabinde

New Creator