SpeakLife

“Every time you do a good deed you shine the light a little farther into the dark. And the thing is, when you're gone that light is going to keep shining on, pushing the shadows back.” ― Charles de Lint An anonymous person described a good deed as an act of selflessness that helps others and pleases them, done from the heart with no expectations of any form of reward or compensation. Another says good deeds are spontaneous acts of kindness, accommodation, generosity, benevolence, charity, sympathy, assistance all performed with the noble intention of being helpful with no expectation of a compensation of any kind. So much bad blood amongst family, siblings, friends, neighbors, and strangers alike, all because we do not possess the gift of foresight which permits us the luxury of knowing each others intentions or whom to trust. There is so much evil in the land and all we think of and see is how much bad there is, how evil and wicked the society is. We have all forgotten that a litt...

this road i pass never to go through again on tore, piercing grass deep to the heart of my feet best of designers turn into worst of rag the appealing smell trnsfoemed to the bad smell i wish not my best enemy the best of me yet  revealed . this road i pass never to go through agaiin hmmm, the finest of goal through the burning fire the journey through this tunnel darkness, thick darkness submerge i in it chocking in depressing betterness the best of me yet revealed the best of me yet revealed the tore all gone, the wounds all healed the burning fire off the heating cooing off light revealed in me shining to brighten my world hmmm fresh air of victory and breeze of happiness dressed i in purpple and golden linen on horse back adored in pure fine gold this road i pass never to go through again the best in me yet again revealed. written by: "NANKPAK CIRFAT"

I was searching for something But I didn't know where to look i searched for so long And all my time it took What was I looking for? Or was it looking for me? My eyes I kept open But I just couldn't see It was staring at my heart And ripping through my brain I didn't know what was wrong I thought I was going insane I was tired of looking for something That was impossible to find It was tearing me apart I prayed to God to give me a sign I waited and waited But the sign never came Finally, one day it happened My heart completely changed I found what I was looking for But I wasnt looking for this Am I sure this is what I was looking for? or was it something I missed? When I looked into the eyes Of this something I thought was fake I saw an angel looking back And my heart it did take This something that I had been looking for was a true gift from God above The missing piece I found was you and your love I Love you so I'll sincerely ask That ...

Freedom is life So they say But been restrante In the darkness of my world All to myself Better i share with others. Freedom is life But where is my freedom In the heart of distress In the travailing Yes, travailing of a strng man All but to nothing Freedom is life Only for those with aspiration Being furgitives of their imadination Encomped in their hearts Living for yet percive freedom Freedom form unending fantasize Freedomis life from torn and tattered life Existance for years in servitude From the plunge in debris Hmmm, debris after rain, into The ocean of desolution FReedom is life I percive the sweat smell I feel the blowing breeze The open air of freashness The raising of the sun on the debrise Taking the baptizm of freedom To raise to a free life In continual jamboree A memorial for a life thats free Indeed, freedom is life. written by "NANKPAK CIRFAT"

In such a time as this when the greatest of men just revealed quickly fades away when a great Hero manifest into irony by falling to the ground when the wind of death blows to take the Giant of men In such a time as this when the sound of mourning is kicked to a start when weeping becomes central and morners in their sorrow explore the face with tears and accomping pains when the ideal men of the society breaks in wailing with no medicine comfort their ceaseless trauma In such a time as this when the greatness of men quicly fading like the blooming flower quenced by the hotness of the sun the striaght of the defender is bruised when the pillar is taken away an emacipator expectation is no more In such a time as this when the earth deprives man its grape or fruit and in the deepest anguish, the body awaits its retirement back to its nature; dust to dust I call it 6ft beneath the earth below the body's final distination opens its wide arms to embrace...