He called me  thespian.
I have nothing of such in one soul and mental orientation.
Words are beautiful. And praise is kind to the hearers.
Many years had past,
And  here i am. looking at  heavens gate.
Maybe you might come back home and finish the good work you once started few years back.
All things, i counted blessed.
The memory we once shared together.
The beauty of thou mouth, the inspiration that birthed all have come to cherish.
Although,
I long to tell  thee few progress i had made through grace not by pride.
If you could recalled your very word before thou departure.
My heart is heavy, i could  see  millions of  souls in hades with pains and agony.
A. Alex,
And there was no hope of coming back  to repentance.
I was told,
 it was raining the very day you last kissed mother land.
 And you came out and looked at the firmament and whispered quietly.My train is here to take me home mother. And you  later, requested for water and a precious stone for the journey ahead  is neither for the weak at heart.
And so, the story ended.
I had been in umpteen cities and countries, where Christ is the hope of glory. A friend that stick closer than man shadows.
 A kind reflection of thee Obiwanne...
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