The Curse of Memories (Gloss 2)

     People of God, good afternoon. I have been absent for a while now, and for this, I am sorry. I can’t make promises because I will most likely break them but I will say that whenever I am free (which will most likely be weekends), I will try my best to entertain you whichever way I can.

     Today, I am posting a poem. You must be wondering where Gloss 1 is. It is in which is owned by @VegaPunk (formerly @Paetir) and was written by @Blaqnyght who has permitted me to post this on my blog even though he did not send me message to write part 2 for him. My wahala is much. I know. I was just so inspired by Gloss 1 that I did not rest till I wrote Gloss 2. I hope I have not demeaned the original and that it meets even if only half of Blaqnyght’s. I don’t know how to insert links so I am sorry but you all will manually have to go to Redor to look for it.

     Try to read the part 1 too and tell me if it fits/follows. Thanks.

     I talk too much abi? This talkativeness is what put me in trouble some hours ago. I just don’t learn, do I?

Enjoy (hopefully)


The Curse of Memories (Gloss 2)

As a paint brush on a wall

As a train on its tracks

Up and down you travel

along familiar terrain

Trekking the routes over and over

in your downcast mind.

Covering the tracks with more grease

Coating the walls with more gloss.

Why seek to forget?

To erase what has been

and replace with what you wish?

You seek to forget because you are weak.

A child of dust

and feeble as frail.

Remember, but do not fear.

For to fear is to fight

and to fight is to be bound

and to be bound is sure death.

So be calm.

Even when you see the butcher’s knife

even as you feel the surgeon’s clamp.

For at the end, you too will become only a memory

That may get glossier, but will fade eventually into nothingness.

For all is vain, all is naught.

Leave it all, all is dust.

I will just drop this here...
I will just drop this here…

I know I am supposed to write something witty/cool in this space but nothing comes to mind now. I know I will remember after posting. 😦

A Twist in the Tale: ENGANO

And for today’s feature presentation, we have noble Paetir with his offering; of the gods and of Ragnorak, of  murder and twisted souls..


It is said that a true ripper never dies.

He will surely come back,

To reclaim life once lost,

One that may no longer be his to take,

But he doesn’t care, he will take it anyway

For you see, the ripper is always at war

He has never known peace

For peace is as alien to him as the sanctity of life

Everything alive must one day die

For what is the worth of a life?

If it cannot be taken with the swing of a sword..

Another sits on his throne

He claims right to the throne by birth

But now he’s trapped.

Now he has to make do with what he has.

And who says he can’t have some little fun?


Men worship gods

But gods must serve man

For a god is a manifestation of man’s dreams

And heights he will most likely aspire to

Dreams are what they are

I am god.


He creeps around in the dark

Creep Creepy little weevil

I bear the brunt of his revenge, for he is Cain.

The sun might just rise a little too sooner than the 6th hour.


A blood sucking duckling he was

A man of striking and destructive worth

He awoke from thousands ofyears in slumber

He roared at his throne from the pits as a disgraced dragon.


Her name was Trina

A girl in her teens who loved older men

They were after all more understanding

She lived her life as she saw fit.


Mr. Mark had just moved in next door

With his wife Vivian and daughter Margaret

They were a strange bunch

They kept to themselves.

Trina liked him,

Trina liked older men.


The Norse ‘deified’ ideals of strength.

He deified extremes instead

Pushing the envelope

Testing the boundaries of chance

This is the life he chose.


Mr. Mark was always home

He never went out

So naturally he was the first stop when Trina needed to do her math homework

She knocked, ‘Come in’ He said

On the 14th day of May 2013 they fucked.

He kept screaming ‘Ragnarok. Ragnarok. Ragnarok’ as he came

Trina watched him in awe,

He made love to her like no other

He took her to heights of pleasure

Heights she never even imagined existed.

He was the perfect lover,

He had a very weird smile, one she had never seen before, one she would never forget.


Let he who is free test the wrath of the father

For freedom seeks bondage after all.

The devil slumbers,maniac awakens

He pisses on family

He was asleep while you did it,

But yet, he pisses on memory.


Mr. Mark woke up that night,

Strangled his wife in her sleep

And hit his daughter in the head till he could see her brains pop out like ice-cream

He waited till his family bled to death while he watched his favorite tv show.

Then at exactly 6am in the morning he screamed and barged out of his house.

‘Trina Trina’ He kept shouting, he had no idea why,

In a few seconds he was at Trina’s, hitting at the door furiously.

When she opened the door, she was as shocked as the words that refused to escape her mouth.

She saw Mr. Mark in blood stained clothes, eyes blood red, she let out a harrowing scream.

‘Trina it’s me, it’s me’

‘Your father’

Immediately Trina’s dad came in and tackled Mr. Mark below the waist, they tumbled across the front porch and down the stairs.

A scuffle ensued and the two men were left struggling for their lives while Trina watched in horror

‘Who are you? ’ Mr. Mark asked.

They all thought he was insane, maybe he was, they had never really known him.

All these crazy people that their Landlord let in his house. One had finally turned on them.

After a few minutes, the police came along and whisked Mr. Mark away like a stray dog.

The whole neighborhood was abuzz , a man had after all murdered his family and tried to do the same to his neighbors.

It was a good day to be a journalist in town.


Cain, a maniac.

Dog as a devil deified, lived as a god.”


That evening, Trina’s family ate in fear.

They talked in hushed tones.

Trina’s father seemed to be in a particularly good mood.

While they were eating, He flashed a smile at Trina and said ‘Ragnarok, I know what you did yesterday’

Trina was shocked, she began to shiver where she sat, she had never heard her father say ragnarok and she definitely recognized that smile, that weird smile, the one Mr. Mark had on his face after he made love to her, confused she began to stutter.

She lost consciousness.

Loki smiled to himself, he enjoyed playing games with humans, as they usually entertained him. For what was the use of living as mere mortal if he couldn’t have some fun eh?

Don’t answer that.

But then he rushed to get her up and to the hospital, after all he was her father right?





LOKI = Norse God of Deception and Chaos.

In case you don’t get what happened, Loki was Mr. Mark, he slept with Trina, murdered Mr. Mark’s family and somehow transferred his consciousness to Trina’s father’s body leaving Trina’s father’s consciousness in Mr. Mark’s body to take the fall. Confusing shey? Don’t worry, now go read it again.

Did you also notice the palindromes?



 For the benefit of the rest of us, Palindromes are words or phrases which when read from both ends remain the same, like: ‘madam’ or ‘able was I, ere, I saw Elba’ or ‘djdjdjdjdjdjdjdjdjdjdjdjd’


The next instalment comes up the day after tomorrow, with the beautiful @teleolaonifade

Follow on twitter @Janus_aneni. You may also follow @Paetir but nah…


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