Lyrical Assassin

The Lyrical Assassin
You don't wanna mess with him

Here I stand firm

Deleting daunting doubt; tumbling walls

Of fear, taking trophies on my own terms—

Defying consequences, kicking Fate in the balls.

Here I stand firm

Skillfully slugging opposition’s industrious crew.

Constantly chasing down fools with clear intent to bring harm

Annihilating every appearance of a threat with tried tools.

Here I stand firm

My position locked and confirmed

Aiming lethal verbs about 9mm in your direction,

Pumping my Glocks pushing you to the verge of extinction.

Here I stand firm

To whom it may concern:

I stand true

And I shall not be moved.

Akpan

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Some Age Old Cures

I might have found the cure for the Ebola Virus. With the surge of freakish and lethal infections and diseases in our society, (I read somewhere online where an health official made speculations that if Ebola, the killer virus and the trending health condition of the moment, ever became airborne a little over a million people of the earth would catch an early ride to meet their maker.) we need… we deserve some sort of respite.

Fortunately for yous, I have in my private collection, the 2009 edition of Ripley’s Believe It or Not! And the volume has got news for the weary, disease-plagued universe we live in today. So, I did uncover a really helpful list of age old cures that might (or might not) be the cure for the Ebola virus, believe it or not.

Though, I’m not one to shove my opinion down people’s throat but if you asked me, I’d say since some of the maladies listed in images 1, 2, 3, 4 & 6 are peculiar to ones found in patients down with Ebola, a combination medication of one or two of those will probably, result in some miracle cure. (Please, make no reference to this post if it does work! I know it will.)

Keep your pens bleeding!

Akpan

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Who We Be

Happy Independence Day, Nigeria!
So many tribes, ethnicity, dialects yet, so much love!

In the voice of B’ Haram victims

We don’t die we multiply

Right beyond the grave we stir up a rip-roaring legacy.

Death has been reassigned;

Decay clobbers the camp of the adversary.

We’ve acquired the laurels of our sacrifice

The feat is fused into the framework of history.

We don’t die.

We was planted and we thrived.

The fluid thru our veins is green

And our voices erupt still in the street.

We heard the critical retort;

The ratata of a lethal report

Declared you have been uninstalled.

Cause you didn’t belong in the tribe.

But we don’t die.

We just flow true like that great rushing river

In which over 300 tribes wash and pass the time.

We don’t die. We’re Nigeria.

Akpan

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