I knew a sad boy

 I knew a sad boy who came to me and said 

Is she my cross to bear? To carry to the hills of Golgotha, and lay to rest. But she is no sin nor vice nor a temptation but a delight I cannot have. It seems my head will explode with the constant thoughts of all of her ways. Oh how her beauty has impressed itself on me, dear God let me have her or cease my desires. She is ten leagues above me, am I destined to enjoy her from afar. 

K.Oni

My Delilah

 Ah, what to think of her that has passed me by? What do I say to the humiliation enshrined in the termination of my truth? What do you say dear one? She was like a dream, an awed devotion, a beaming vision whom I was delighted to rest my honour. But she is gone, lost to the horizon of my abyss. Here I stand in celestial sorrow, dappled in the darkness of my loss. But I never possessed her. Never said hello, only watched her in the distant dawn. She is my departed glory, my dethroned princess and my Delilah! 

K.Oni

It unfolds, day after day.

 It unfolds, day after day, the pangs of love in the desert cries. O, dancing sunshine, how you shine in this heart of mine to face the new day anew with the strength that comes from the arm of the Almighty. I am unafraid as the darkness trails and my enemy are as vast as the stars above. O where is my love, her whom I delight? She eschews me and acknowledges not my identity. My pen deceives me in this mist of charm, O friend, come desperately before the glory decays. I approach a desirable denial, strength is all my prayers bent. The odious scent, I march through the dusky task and sweet delight is always in the comforting arms of the everlasting light.

K.Oni

She loved him

She loved him and he was perhaps the love of her life. Her dreams were beginning to take shape and all she wanted to have, had him always in it. 

But he broke it off. There was no rhyme in his decision and no rhythm. He left her to fall like a rock thrown from a very high cliff. 

It shattered and scattered all across the sinking sand. Months went by where she laid in the same place of her drowning. His waters could not escape her lungs. 

She would sit in the dark and go over everything she ever did and wondered if she had done things differently, perhaps he would still love her and still had a glow of loving flow for her in his heart. 

I tried to comfort her miserable condition but most of my comfort was done in hours of silent service.

 Sometimes I was near and at times far away but she was always in my heart and in my prayers. 

Poor Lucy, poor poor Lucy I often thought. Only if she didn't love him so much. Only if she could learn to rise above her feelings and counsel herself with encouraging words, then she would have soon got over this. 

But not everyone is as stoic as me or as optimistic or pessimistic that in whatever the case might be, life must go on and sooner or later we all die and that this is just the way of the world.

K.Oni

My fictional pen you have escaped me

Ah, my fictional pen you have escaped me or rather I have neglected you. It’s been a while since I attempted to write a story or finish such wonderful stories I began such as the little valley or the princess and the rain. I am full of regret that I did not finish you and grant you an ending. Perhaps now is the time to revisit you and pick up where I left you. It’s a harder thing to do than to have persevered. It is never in one’s best interest to quit a story. Better to finish it and not publish it than to neglect it and wish.

If the story was destined to burn then no such regret I would own but I intended to finish it when I began but I guess my desires were but smoke.

K.Oni

Avoided ambition

Avoided ambition lead to the miscarriage of their dreams. 

The briefness of his devotion agitated the applause from his father’s wings.

Fly like him!  

But he eschewed his mother’s distant call – always beckoning,

Hating her constant echoing, un-trifling his youthful doctrinal education. 

Blessed condolence; but not enough to conform to their decreed will. 

                           Outcast! 

Felt caged since his deported youth. 

Winsome, nevertheless cold; a shining star. 

However, he chose to hide his light under cardinal crimes.  

She was an artless candour

She was an artless candour from an aristocratic lineage. Her arrogant imposition was an ascetic devotion for the many that devoted themselves to her elegance. She was astute, a genius beyond her time, who always had about her a balanced capacity about the vagueness that men held on life.

Her azure sky always fragranced with an impressive appeal, drawing in the simple and the ambiguous and smooth; a commonplace modesty maligned with a bad omen. She was in one sense a beatific vision, a long beauty befitting the beckoning horizon.

K.Oni

She sat still with open eyes

She sat still with open eyes, having a desire for that which was currently absent from her environment. Her will was to have him, and in another context her will was to kill him. She had a peculiar beauty, one that you would not find in another woman's eyes. Nay, she was all in a league of her own. And for that I fell in love like so many others, but my love was all in vain. Had I prescience knowledge, I would not have knocked on her door to declare to her my love, even though when I did, I had but a penny of hope.

Her soft eyes which at times were hard towards me was very full of pity, coupled with a patronising care. In that moment I had hoped that she was a Delilah, namely one who would play me and pretend that she loved me, whereas she was altogether in the employment for my enemies gain. At least I would have thought in that moment that she loved me; and when her treachery was at last uncovered, my consolation would have been the remembrance and sweetness in kissing her. But nay, none of this was my portion save an offer to go for an ice cream to discuss some irrelevant scientific discovery which has nothing to do with my love of train-spotting.

K.Oni  

Story: Double Love

I cannot reach my love, her who is constantly in my soul. It seems more than ever that we are world's apart, like we live in two different realms. Yet she is always in my heart and in my soul. Oh what to do!

But the other day, in the early afternoon  I met another who gave me an approving smile. The stars of admiration glistened in her eyes. Although she did not confess it with her lips, yet her arduous touch and steady gazing confirmed it. 

I spoke to her a while conversing on many light matters, for it would do no good to talk about a thing that weighs the soul. We spoke of gentle nature and how equally we admire the sunset but that we both favored the sunrise. The more she lingered around me, the more I began to see her ascending supremacy in all things.

Have I been won? As my heart been taking away once again into that garden of dearest love? But there was nothing in my mouth to suggest such a thing, for my tongue still had the taste of indifference, although as each hour went by, yes hours for with her, time flew blessed by, I began to taste her honesty.

She was all lovely and blameless. No spot of blemish I could see in her beauty. Her character was angelic but I must halt, for wisdom councils that one should hold judgement on a person until they have done them wrong. 

After many hours spent in her presence, I retired home and so did she. I retired o my bed and thought of her, her whom I cannot reach with my love but concluded that perhaps she is not worth the keeping in my head. She ought to be dismissed and I should reverie about her who admires the brave wind that busies itself in the eastern desert. 

Morning came with a cardinal merit of delight. I rose to wonder about her who delights in the rays of light, who would never eschew a depressing company but linger with them until they are dismissed. I wondered if she is up like me thinking about me like I am thinking of her. Nay I thought, she would earlier rise and put her house in order, for all I observed about her proclaims that she was a woman of congenial charitableness, pleasing others before she pleased herself. I am too in this way of order and no doubt that when we are together, we are equally yoked.

Such was my morning easiness that I relapsed into a soft dream where she was all in fantastic white coming towards me. But my comfortableness was soon dislodged by a loud slap on my door!

"I know you are in there," her voice screamed that is her whom my love cannot reach.

But why this wrath I thought. Nevertheless I must open and prepare myself for her cutting remarks.  

 

No bounded edge to her personality

There was no bounded edge to her personality, but I am bounded, and her unboundedness intrigues me, fascinates me. I know the world through my feelings, my feelings of guilt, of boundaries, and the fear of going beyond my borders; but she has no such sensation. She is free. A freedom I cannot live, nor accept. I have a best sense of myself, the kind that is typical of all good men, but she, I dare say, like freedom itself considers whatever state she is in to be the best sense of herself.

Her movement dances to a mixture of music and even to silence itself. I can only move to a Bethoven, and my ears only have time for well written music, the kind which echoes from the mouth of a piano, or stringed from the violin. But she could take my archaic tune and make it graceful, elegant as well as dysfunctional, having no pace or rhythm about it, and make both contrary themes lovely.

She speaks without an agenda, move with and without a direction. How a creature so unlike me could live and I be so fond, escapes me. I know only that when I look upon her, seeing day and night with its sun and stars, dwell happilly in her eyes, impells my curiosity and heart to love her more. Oh if I should fall off my precipice and land in her space, I cannot live again in my world, for she has won me, my heart and soul, that if she leaves me in her world with her all gone, then I will go mad, because only staying by her, with her, can I make sense of her universe.

And it was, that I did enter her boundaries, and she did lead me in and that for a while. After playing with me, and I so embedded in her, she did go away, leaving me without a kiss of goodbye, and without directions to find my way back to the edges of my own simplicity. Her world was too vast, too free for me, that without her, madness overtook me; and the absent fires of her love, burnt me to such a high degree that I no longer recognize myself, only a strong desire of an unreachable satisfaction which continually aches my heart remains.

K.Oni

He was very zealous in his cause

He was very zealous in the cause he
affected to serve. Her love was written in indelible
characters upon his heart; but when they first met, he
greeted her with skeptical contempt. This was because she had once betrayed him, violating all of his decencies. 



K.Oni

A short story: My only Son

There was a man, a father I should say, who buried his child three days ago. The reason for such a burial was because his son was accused of a crime that he did not commit. But everyone was so against the boy that no piece of evidence could have acquitted him.

He had spent just a night in jail and was terribly beaten up by the guards. They taunted him and teased him.

"Confess your crime, you dog." shouted one guard before another spat on him.
"Let us go easy on him." taunted another before punching him in the belly.

Such acts were against the law, but it was a practice here for the guards to do as they pleased as long as they did not kill the prisoner.

The poor boy did not utter a cry. No tears were wasted, only drops of blood poured out on the prison floor.

Early in the morning, the innocent boy only eighteen years of age looked very disfigured and unrecognized by his own family. His father screamed:

"What have you done to my Son. I will never forgive you."

The father picked up a stone wanting to throw it at the guards, but then he met his son's pardoning eyes. He put down the stone and wept.

The crowds chanted for his blood.

"Kill him now." bellowed a group of kids. It was very sad that such kids have been corrupted by the elders propaganda.

What exactly his crime was differed from the different witnesses that came up to testify.

One witness said: "I saw him with our daughter. He was on top of her forcing her to do the things that are forbidden in the land."

Another witness said: "He stole my gold. I saw him take it."

More witnesses came up but none could provide sufficient evidence for their claims. But the judge did not care. No lawyer took up his case. All abandoned him; and when it was time for him to speak, he simply looked up to the sky and said, 'Father, forgive them. They know not what they do.'

To many, this young boy had been like an angel. He showed love like the sun to the earth. He uplifted the broken-hearted and helped the widow. He was wise in learning and slow to anger. For any foreigner viewing this case, it was clearly a matter of injustice.

He was led to the guillotine, but a last minute command bid the guards to have him hanged instead. And so he was led to the slaughter. His father followed behind, languishing his woe of loosing his one and only son.

And so they hanged him. The crowd cheered. But the one who had tied the rope around his neck lingered around the dead body. He had seen the purity in the boy's eyes and became convinced that such a boy was innocent.

"O what have I done!" wailed the guard. "I have killed an innocent boy."

At that moment, a light surpassing the afternoon glow beamed on his face. But it did not blind him. It felt warm and golden, so much so that his guilt fled away. After a few days this guard inquired of many in the city about the boy and his message and what made him so pure. The guard received the answer with joy from every believer's face. They told him the good news, namely, that 'all men are sinners deserving the punishment of hell. But God in his mercy sent his only Son Jesus Christ to die for our sins. We must now choose to follow His Son if we are to receive salvation for our souls. That boy whom you hanged followed him. But following Jesus is not like following other masters. As one of our dear brothers have said that the wind sits always on his face and the foaming rage of the sea of this world, and the proud and lofty waves do continually beat upon the sides of the bark or ship that himself, his cause, and his followers are in; he therefore that will not run hazards, and that is afraid to venture a drowning, let him not set foot into this vessel. Will you set foot into his vessel?'

The guard accepted and from that day suffered a great deal for the cause of Christ.

Now the father of the boy had buried his child. On a day as normal as any a day, the father did visit his son's grave. To his misery he found it empty and he knew that it had been plundered. He sobbed to himself,

"Is it not enough that my son should be murdered by them who are to bring justice. Now after his life, he is plundered in his grave. Were the tortures not enough for heaven's sake!"

About to curse those who had done such an awful thing, there was a great light that shone upon him. The light soothed and calmed his soul and then he heard a voice declaring that the angels had taking his boy into heaven.

"Christ our Lord is the first to rise from the dead." said the Angel. He continued. "And then there were many after him that rose with him. But it was pleasing to the LORD to raise your boy from the dead and sit him in heaven. Fear not son of man. Continue to preach and the good Christ has ordained that your portion is not to suffer but to meet with many blessings.

K.Oni

Love, a confusing emotion

For Gerad, love was a confusing emotion. One day it satisfies and on another day it strips his heart bare. He wanted out sometimes and he would often say, 'Love is too hard.'

Often she would call him and tell him time and time again her problems. She would constantly despair of the disorder of her soul as incurable. He always offered her his ears and even more, he always made his shoulders available for her to cry on. 

But his heart was crumbling too. 

Bottling up everything, especially his own problems had reached its limit and Gerad knew that at any minute everything could spill over. 

But Gerad loved her.

Gerad knew that love offers life. It lightens the dark moments and his presence always made her smile. He tells himself that love covers a multitude of sins whenever she forgets to ask about him and his troubles. It was always about her – so self-centered. He always took a sigh to swallow his own madness and always, always focused on her.

His love was a love that gave but never received. 'Giving love its is own reward', he often said to himself. 'It is not about me. But about her.' 

'To love her,'  Gerad reminded himself every morning, that 'I must daily forgive her, for love is not possible without the healing work of forgiveness.'

'Some people,' he tells himself 'have turned their hearts away from tenderness because they have a defensive hardness – but I must always be tender towards her. I must always cry over her misery and adopt it as my own. Perhaps I need another friend, one who can hear my heartache, but she takes up too much of my time. She is needy and I must be there. Loving her is sacrifice.'

Gerad's love is not the kind that is easily found in our society. Time and time again, voices have told him that his love for her is unhealthy. That he is loving the unlovable, that he lets her desires take over his own, that his love is surely one-sided. Why love someone who does not love you back is the common refrain. But in his heart he always answered saying, 

'My love is not determined by self-interest, nor wanting an appreciation or even recognition for its service. My love is free even when it bleeds.'  

K.Oni

A short story: Can we have a chat

In general when someone says to a boy 'can we have a chat,' it usually means that there is something on their heart that they wish to pressingly talk about. Of course this could also be true for a girl. And in this case it was a girl who made the request.

Now the boy is not the one for conversation, especially conversations which have no philosophical, theological, or metaphysical air about them. Even on politics, he would only comment when it was only necessary and to show some politeness.

Now this girl who had made the request to him, he knew a little but she knew him well. For it was her leisure to contemplate him and marvel at his absent nature. She would often go where he is in order to tangle in a conversation with him, but she always started the conversation with the wrong topic. So he would leave because such chats are of no amusement to him.

We can say that the boy was very selfish in character, although he had a very good heart, because even though he had nothing in him for fish smelling conversations (for that was how he perceived them), yet he thought much but not too much about the girl in his heart because he prayed well enough for her.

Now the evening came when the boy (very unwilling) granted the girl his ears.

"Now, tell me," said the boy eager not to spend a minute more than was required, "Tell me what is on your mind that concerns me."

The girl, filled with nerves but possessing the loveliest of mixed eyes said,

"Rene, I want to know what you think of me?"

Taking a deep breath, Rene replied with these words.

"Cecile, what you ask me is not a subject I have lingered much upon, but if it is of any consolation, I do pray for you almost every night."

"That is a very good thing to do, Rene." said the girl. "I am glad that there is something of me in your heart. And apart from prayer are there any other times when I am in your heart?"

Rene paused a moment feeling more and more uncomfortable and suffering the whole meeting a burden. But for the sake of politeness he answered her question.

"Apart from prayer, and except when I see you in my immediate view, I do not linger on your person. Although I must say that you are very kind and of a good well meaning nature."

"Thank you Rene." replied the girl feeling a little dissapointed that he didn't think any more about her.

She noticed the wandering of his eyes perceiving that he wanted to leave and be alone to read his dead authours. So she asked him a question.

"Have you no question for me, dear Rene?"

Rene shook his head but she continued.

"Would you not like to ask me the question I asked you?"

This we can say is an unfortunate circumstance for Cecile. For she had fallen in love with a boy that only cares for the metaphysical discussion on love and on its ethereal properties, rather than wanting to live it in reality, especially the love of eros. Her heart had falling into his calm sea never to be aroused by his passionate waves to carry her into his harbour.

She sighed heavily placing her left elbow on the table and her palm beneath her cheek. Rene, seeing this sorry sight suddenly had a great deal of pity and empathy for her, considering it not the worst of things to engage her in conversation. He knew that she was much in love with him for he was a student of logic and had splashed his mind into psychology, so he understood all of her body language.

"Now, now," said Rene with a smile that she had never seen before, "I want to know what you think of me."

The girl's eyes blazed alight, having a fast beat about her heart, flushed internally, then regained her composure.

"Dear Rene, I think well of you. Infact I think, I think too well of you."

"O do tell me how you think well of me." inquired Rene.

"Must you make a lady empty out her heart?" She replied flirtyly.

Understanding the gesture, Rene wished no part to act in her playful behavior but signaled to her out of kindness that he was curious to know.

"O Rene," said the girl, "I do not know when it started, but all I know is that on a day that was as normal as any day, I found feelings for you in my heart. Your features became to me very agreeable, your brown eyes very charming, and your face, whenever my eyes met with them, melted away my sadness. You are the only boy that appears in my dreams and in my notebook there contains all kinds of doodling about you."

"So you have no faults with me?" asked Rene.

"I ought too, and many for that matter. But because you are very favourable to me, I will always turn a blind eye upon them."

"So that's how it is." replied Rene, then continued. "So I make you smile."

"I have never been much happier than tonight." said the girl. "Talking with you excites me greatly. I wish you would grant me this pleasure every night or at least once a week."

At this suggestion, Rene paused to think. And seeing the good passions that emanated from her face, he agreed to meet her once a week.

They did so for six months without fail. In time Rene grew very soft towards her and very favourable towards her. When he slept, her face would appear so sweetly and calmly in his dreams. And soon enough he aroused the waves of his calm sea, falling with all the admiration in the world on one knee, asking her absolutely that he wanted her to be his wife.

K.Oni

We both fell asleep

Why do i care about what happens to her. Her happiness seems to be mixed up with mine. When she is unhappy I worry about her. Will she make the same mistakes? Is she crying? Is she lying on her bed wanting to take her own life? Will she make the same mistakes? That last question lingers much on my mind especially when I am alone with myself. I cannot sleep because I worry about her. My feelings rise and my heart begins to ache. Why do I feel like this? Why did I let myself get into this position. I wish I had no care. I wish my death would come tomorrow, yea for me to eternally go to sleep because I see that I have no future. There is nothing I can do in this world. I am no good. And although I think that she once thought well of me, I think that she is now thinking of another. When she was thinking well of me I delayed my love towards her. But now I feel for her and I fear that she no longer feel for me. What sadness! what aches! But life is such that one must move on. I wish I had something to do but I have nothing at all. A poor man is a burden to his family and his friends, because he is always looking for money to borrow to pay his debts. I have many and I have hardly any hope of paying them. O to die in peace and leave all my worries and sorrows on this green earth.

So I crumble the tablets in the water. I shake and stir. I put the glass on my lips and put it back down again. I hold my head and bring it down to my chest. I rise up from my chair to look into the bathroom mirror. I splash cold water on my face. I take three deep breathes and go back to my bed. The water still sits on the bedside table. I go to bed only to wake up that she came around last night and had drunk half of the water. I tremble as I saw her body laying lifeless. She was the only thing keeping me alive. I call for the ambulance. I wrote a quick note. Then closing my eyes I picked up the half glass of water and drank it all in one gulp. My vision got blurry. I lay next to her placing her left arm on my chest. My face kissed her cheek and slowly and happily I drifted into the world beyond this one. I fell asleep. We both fell asleep.

K.Oni

The devil cannot love

The devil cannot love. The devil cannot forgive, therefore the devil is the most miserable of persons. His anger and bitterness grows from age to age. It knows no decreases, it shall never end. His fury shall rise as the smoke for all eternity. Even in chains he curses heaven. He still holds the deep resentment for humanity. He walks around like a lion on this earth to cause chaos. Never could he strife for peace. Destruction and death are his two angels, poverty and greed are his cherub, pride is the crown on his head and hatred is his black garment. The devil cannot love. His kingdom is built on enmity, everyone in his camp is abominable. He lurks in powerful places, he sleeps in the harlots house. He makes friends with hypocrites and wages war on the penitent. The devil cannot love but he lies, he steals and cheats. He is vile, base and pomp. Therefore children, beware of the devil, especially of the devil inside of you. 

K.Oni

She looked upon him well

I knew one who had a youthful ambition and lived through a winsome childhood. He had wolfish tendencies but was decorated with a womanlike loveliness. Something strange for a boy to have and his father, being very tiresome of his flute loving ways, tried every way to strip such qualities away from him. He had a virgin's grace, a kitten's soft eyes, and a vain contemplation. He had an unwavering allegiance to his dreams, and never possessed any intentions of being offensive. When spoken with, one could only imagine his words for it sipped like the dripping rain into the pitfalls of one's argument. O, such a boy was loved and loathed under heaven.

One fashionable girl, who was very far from looking wrinkled like a dried apple loved him wonderfully, and wholly. She met him on a day by a curly stream, where little songbirds come to perch and dine. They stayed by him without the slightest nerve nor care about their welfare, for they felt as she soon felt because of the feather like welcomeness that emanated from him. He played his flute as she had never heard it played before. Not even Apollo with his lyre could draw an audience away from him.

She watched him as good as any girl would, who being in the presence of one who was beyond fanciful for the simplest of reasons, and one who blended in with the attractiveness of the summer colours. Her girly eyes turned pearly, and soon it became diamonds as he looked her way with eyes blazed like the mid day sun. He spoke not, but she experienced his words fall upon her moist skin as soft as rain. And he sat among the daisies with all the complacency of a housed cat.

He looked upon her well but his gaze was as vague as a dream. She blushed away for her cheeks became as red as the mute roses. Then the girl noticed another young blooming girl whose favour are like the soft summer winds that kisses everything it meets, lie next to the one whose fragrance had erased the creased monotony of her existence. She looked well at her and thought herself to be of no competition. She thought herself to be but the flames of a caved candle, and the girl who anchored by him as the flames that burns deep within the sun.

It was as if all darkness came upon her as she witnessed her lips folded into his. All of her intentions were now dashed against the rocks, for her mission was to come and declare to him her earthly love. Her face became like the dead flowers, and her heart as the water in winter.

K.Oni  

A short story: Conquistar - chapter 3

The evening was impenetrably dark. The natural light had gone from the world and escaped into the street lights of the city, meanwhile the woods and the farmyards rested blissfully at the knowledge of the radical silence. Only one atmosphere in this rural dwelling possessed the chatter that displayed everything that was distinct about the human race, namely the consciousness of knowing that one has a soul, whether for living, dying or for pleasure. Simi's soul was for pleasure and the girl who entertained him this evening knew no better. She had believed as Simi gently persuaded her too hope, that he was all for her.

“Tell me again my sweet bright candle-light what you would have me be for you?” asked Simi touching the cheek of the brown haired beauty that was lost in his lies. "You know you really are better than the summer seasons, and to me your lips are like the wild strawberries found in Charles V royal garden.

Nearing to speak to declare again what Simi already knew, she kissed his lips gently, then he caressed her left ear whispering tenderly to her that:

 “I'll be everything you hope and more.”

After ten minutes of kissing, Simi gently persuaded his entertainment that he wanted more without words. She understood his soothing subtlety and like all proper girls, she willed to resist his touch as to notify him that she wasn't the sort that one could buy and trade so cheaply in the market.

Understanding her manners, Simi looked deep into her French pearly eyes as to show his total devotion to her, and at this she consented for Simi to do with her as he pleased.

Without displaying the smallest care for her loving submission, Simi would have his way with her as one does with a takeaway meal, namely without love and thankfulness for the cooks who prepared it.

“I am here to stay,” whispered Simi in a soft hush tone and then began to pet her neck. She closed her eyes to enjoy the novelty of this sensation and was now entirely eclipsed in his world. Simi had made her into his puppet without strings, he had won her heart and in this victory won her trust. Pursuing to go further as to fulfill the desires of his heart, there was a gentle knock on the door as to put Simi's heart on high alert for he had no memory of inviting anyone else this evening. He slowly released the girl from his embrace and rapidly thought in his head:

“Who could this be? Sonia is away and I have told her never to come here without an invitation otherwise she would remain outside; and brother has the keys and Samantha knows nothing of this place. I am seeing her tomorrow. Who could it be?”

Rising to his feet with a curious wonder, he went to open the door, for his entertainment had gestured to him with her eyes that it would be awfully unkind of him not to answer. Unlocking the handle bar with his right arm, he moderately opened the door to see who this unwanted visitor is.

“Brother,” sounded the familiar voice, now cementing his body unto his brother's red evening gown.

“Brother,” replied Simi in perplexity. “What are you doing here at such a time without your key?”

“Will you keep me outside,” smiled Diango, gently forcing himself into the family cottage.

Noticing the ambiance of the place, Diango caught eyes with the brown-haired beauty that sat ashamedly on the velvet couch.

“Abelia,” Diango curiously trumpeted with a delightful surprise that made him lock eyes with his younger sibling.

K.Oni  

The fairest princess there ever was

A frog once asked me who I thought the prettiest elegant creature was. I said a princess of course. Nothing as fair as her innocent heart. The frog then said that 'if I a trusting boy should be, a kiss from you, a princess will have.' I closed my eyes and stretched out my lips, only to open them to see the fairest princess there ever was. 

K.Oni

A short story: Ashes into Gold

"But Lord I do have these ashes, this filthy rubbish on my hands, and I have nowhere to put it. They are stuck to me; it is as if they are part of me. I cannot get rid of them. I loathe them as angels detest the presence of lucifer; and the devils seems to be attracted to me. O what wretched ugly ashes I hold, what degrading materials are in my hands."

Christ then replied, "O my child, who plays much in the dirt, lingering in the puddle when I have made you this bright fresh river to play in, come here and I will trade your ashes into gold."

The dirty kid then reply, "But who would pay gold for such despicable ashes?"

"I will." Christ replied standing up to embrace the boy.

"O my Lord, do not touch me for I shall stain your garment."

"Without my touch," responded Christ, "those ashes will cling to you forever. I must touch you and fear not, the opposite will happen. You shall have my golden garment and I will have your ashes."

"Then my Lord, who shall trade your ashes for gold?" At this question Christ laughed and said to the boy, "These ashes will only last three hours or so and then they shall disappear forever."

The boy looked at his lord in mystery and perplexity, but knowing the genuineness of this man who seemed like a person whom he had known his whole lifetime, and seeing the rainbow love that emanated from him, he obeyed Christ at his words and at once was rid of all his ashes and had upon him a golden robe.

"You are now like me, a heir of all things that belongs to my Father." said Christ. "You may now come into the garden and into the palace at will, without the fear of those Cherubims and their flaming swords. They will not attack one with this garment."

"But Lord," replied the boy. "What if I stain this garment by swimming in that puddle?"

"Then boy," answered Christ, "only pray and ask for forgiveness and that Golden garment shall appear to you as clean and lovely again."

"Why would it only appear to me to be clean?" inquired the boy. "Will it not really be tarnished and thus loose its glowing ray."

"Not at all my boy. This heavenly truth I shall tell you, namely that which cannot be rendered is that your golden garment will forever retain its shine as I have given it to you. The reason for that is because it is mine. But it only appears to be unclean to you and rightly so because your conscience, another friend which I have given to you, not as you had it before, but now completely anew, will guide you and counsel you to desire to keep it clean. So every time you swim in that puddle, you shall feel the grieve of your error and come to me in forgiveness, and your garment will appear to you to be clean once more."

"Was it your good friend, who guided me to come to you in the first place?" asked the boy.

"Indeed it was him, known as the wind of  heaven and the one who hovered over the waters at the beginning. And in time you shall know him more and more as a kind friend, only keep in his step and stay away from that muddled water, for it really makes him sad." Christ looking up at the sky saw that the sun had long faded into the sea and told the boy to go home.

"But Christ," asked the young boy, "Is not my home now with you?"

With a tender smile Christ looked at the young boy and loved him and said, "You are quick to learn, aren't you."

"It is not me my Lord, but something inside me prompted me to say that."

"I see." radiated Christ very much happy that the boy could now recognize the voice which belonged to his new friend. "For now you cannot come with me, but you must go to your hometown."

"Why not now," asked the boy who really wanted to supper with his lord for he had not yet eating.

"Because I must go and prepare a room for you."

"Could you not have one of your servants to do it for you, whilst I sit at your feet and hear your wisdom like that woman of old who is famed in that book."

"You remind me of Jacob," said Christ looking at the boy with a wonder and with a face of care. "Because you have persisted in wanting to be by my side this evening, you shall have your hearts desire. But I tell you that it shall be a long while until you see your home again. For those who have visited here have stayed until it all becomes new again."

At this the boy leaped for joy and his heart raced in excitement. Now walking towards the golden palace, far from the dusty city and houses of the plains were the boy belonged, the boy asked timidly: "Dear Christ will I see your Father too."

"Any one who has seen me has seen my Father." replied Christ.

"You mean he is like you", asked the young child.

"I am more like him." Christ said smiling as he walked in his sandals towards the golden palace. "And you need not fear him like you did before for He is the one waiting to meet you."

"Then I am all the more glad that I shall not meet him with my ashes but with your garment."

"It really was his gift to you as well as mine," insisted Christ. Nearing the home of Christ the boy noticed the holes in Christ's feet and remembered how he got them from the book his mother read to him when he was long in his sickness; and then it dawned on the boy that how he was here, he knew not how, but should still be asleep in his mother's bosom.

"I see you have noticed," Christ said looking at the boy with great love. "This whole encounter is so that you may enter into your eternal rest and dine with me forever. Your eyes will one day open once more when I visit your home with my many servants, but for now they shall be opened in my palace."

The boy understood that his sickness was unto death and never again until that day will he stroke the hairs of his mother and kiss the cheeks of his sister. His mind also wandered to that question of Christ when he asked him to return home, understanding that, that was Christ's way of asking him whether he wanted to be healed. But the boy's heart wanted this rest, and although sad that he would not see his family again, yet his heart overwhelmed with bubbling joy like an overflowing spring.