The tale of her

-


The tale of her

There she stood across the saints,
Hoping to be applauded for her belt-mini-skirt,
Seeking approval from public’s careless eyes,
She dances her own tune of sexual magnet,
But the masses repay her with a laughter of mockery.

She knows her dazzling shine of the stars,
But she’s caught up in the tempest deceit of worldly glamour,
Which aims to kiss her butt with grave,
And massage her holy thighs to the palace of hell.
Mary, oh marry - why have you traded your soul for appalls?

Her hair salutes the angels with a golden curl,
She reveals her flawless skin greedily like sin,
Her nails are so enticing like ice cream onto a dry throat,
Who can withstand her charm? Not even herself!
But she hopes to find solace in the pleasure of your bed.

She has priceless lips - you would pray to kiss them,
Her eyes are the moon at night - they illuminate your world,
She’s an angel yet a human - you just can’t resist her,
She has a scent of divine - she has a taste of splendor,
However, she’s still a harlot - waiting to suck your breath!

Outside, she’s a temple of hail,
Inside, she’s villainous - as dangerous as a serpent,
She’s so clever - she can shatter your world in minutes,
She wants to impurify your innocence,
She’s a god of sex, created to darken your world.

07 -02 -2019 - by Blessing Mhlanga………………………………………


At R3 a word, you can get content that ignites and creativity that innovates.

Contact Blessing - the creative today for quality and professional copywriting services.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A mafia tells his tales

-
Image
A mafia tells his tales I’m unknown in the universe of the blues. I hustle with my claws and toil with my feet. I have married a new sun, the desert is my ex and weeping is the grave - I am the Mafia of this game, the game of striving to be the best striker on the field of life. Don’t remind me of the gone tales, I have buried them and I press toward the unknown hidden in the elegant paradise - a world of my own smile. I live not to impress but to express my inner gold which was once sold by the enemy. The kisses of my wisdom reflect the pieces of piles and tiles of my make-up, I have managed to separate the under from the asunder - this is my bible of livelihood . I have conquered the plagues  of lazy plugs, who loved to pray that I become a prey but their gales have become my girls for my fortune sales. I own many suites but not suitable enough to suit every occasion; my calling is sizzling and it won’t stop dazzling. My part is to dress the start, make sure I do
Read more

Mugabe writes his obituary

-
Image
How Robert Mugabe wants to be remembered I was a liberator. Maybe a tyrant too. By Blessing Mhlanga.      10 -09 - 2019. Well, where should I start? If in the beginning God created heaven and earth, then in the beginning is where I’ll start. In the beginning I, Robert Mugabe became pregnant of a vision: to liberate my fellow black Zimbabweans from the perpetual catastrophes of slavery, inequality, poverty, racial segregation and the heavy heap of unjust leadership in the hands of Ian Smith and company. It is for this vision that I created countless movements and campaigns against the atrocious regime that had enslaved my people during the 1960s and 70s. It is for this vision that I endured a decade of imprisonment for trying to overthrow this vicious government. Maybe, it is for this vision that I stayed in power for almost four decades. For clarity purposes, I didn’t hate white people but I only despised their use of power against my people, through
Read more

Opinion piece: Ancestral worship is a fallacy

-
Image
Ancestral Worship is a shameful fallacy By Blessing Mhlanga We cannot speak to the dead and there’s no such thing as the living-dead. Rituals involving animal slaughter, sprinkling of blood, drinking of concoction, talking to a dead person on their grave and consulting a sangoma for intervention is a spiritual deception that has enslaved the african people. For me personally, I am extremely ashamed and disgusted by my fellow black people who believe that a dead person has an influence on their failures or prosperity in their lives. Some cultures even believe that the dead are a mediator between God and the living; it’s a shame because they have forgotten that God is the creator of all men and he doesn’t need a human being whom he created to be a mediator to those who are living. According to Truth Magazine article, ‘if you displease the ancestors, it may be that they will kill someone else.’ This doesn’t make sense, why would my ancestors, who were somehow
Read more