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Mother nature meets mankind
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Embrace the tranquil of nature
when we fall in love with mother nature, it will be easy for us to connect with the divine.
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 ...
The war of the human race By Blessing Mhlanga. 12/12/2019 They sought to kill the chosen but they later surrendered their blades. Who can master the songs of death? They breathe within the depths of malicious hearts. Our souls longs to kiss and dine with the divine, the only answer to the terror of human race. We race against the times of conflict residing in the spacious gardens of our wish, yet we forget that there's always a root of deceit in the baseless fantasy. The ignorance of our walks may resemble the fallen flavours of lonely hills, seeking for a precious lover that only the Almighty can give. Who can withstand the soldiers of our furious mountains? The war was aroused by those who planted seeds of offence against a prophesied destiny of elegance. They wanted to win but their weapons only preached defeat. They sought victory but their regalia spoke nothing but weakening bones. Now here we are, forcing our mouths to challenge the curse of time, without reaching ...
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...
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