As the trumpets blow,

I say my farewells.

 

 

Some say He was with sin. Some say He got married and fled to France. Some say when He died, His body was removed from the tomb by government officials. Some say He never died on the cross at all. Some say He never existed at all. Whatever our views are on Christ, it seems to be a limited opinion. We make Him less of whom He really is so we wouldn’t feel the need to owe Him anything. Some deny Christ because He preached against the sin we loved. Some simply denied Christ because He was painted a white man in Roman masterpieces. Whatever our degraded views may be it is almost like grabbing nails and crucifying Him again in our minds. Once you get rid of the King, you get rid of the order.

 

But Christ is quite alive in my eyes. The power I spoke of before was not of my own but it all belongs to Him. Like a child I was mute until He taught me what to say. With His okay, I speak with blades seeping through the edges of my words. As they cut you, like a surgeon knife it dissects any internal illness that could be found inside of your mortal bodies. My God is not visible, but like the telephone wires behind the wall, His power surges through me and I accept the calling. It is in Christ where I gain my confidence and character. It is because of Christ why I stand before you like a conquering king. I look to Him as father, so like a son I attempt to follow in His footpaths. The way in which He carefully

created man, interwoven and interacting, I put the same passion in when I am creating art.  And there my work stays stained with the influence of the King.

 

I dedicate this to those that went before me. I give the honour that’s due to the men and women who lived their lives forever against the grain. I appreciate the sleepless nights they endured for my survival. And maybe one day when the angels take me away, I can present myself in sparkling white before you as a thank you gift.  But for now, my internal clock keeps ticking – meaning I have less time to act like I have time to waste. Together, we cultivate the culture. We take ownership of this land one inch at a time. Some say I am an extremist; some say I take after my grandfather. But nevertheless I shall remain hard-knock until my heart stops.

 

Let’s not believe in the lie that says no power lies within us. Let’s not feel that our words, thoughts and actions carry no weight in this universe. We carry WEIGHT dear readers. We need no alter ego. We need no costume. And as for my weakness, I lay it aside all of that at the beginning of my journey. Because if I bow down to the weaknesses I love half way up the mountain, I’ll find myself bowing down to the same thing when I reach the top. It takes the power of God for us to conquer these demons; it’s because of the power of God why we stay ULTRA. And there we would stand as a monument – a constant reminder to the future generations that we can change things.

 

Quite frankly, I’m sick of circles. I’m sick of sitting down pointing the fingers at he and she - spending days of my life wondering why things are not working out. But with the powers that are invested in me, I dare to speak for once in my life. Like a lion I roar in the face of oppression. This generation is not a hopeless cause. No longer would we be stigmatised for our age. We are not the leaders of tomorrow; we are the leaders of today. Kindly we take your presidential seats. In wisdom we walk, leading our people to a better home.

 

We do it ourselves, because we got lied to when they said a change is going to come.

The revolution is nigh – I wish to start it now.

 

Cheerio.

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