SOULFLAME MAGAZINE

THE PROPHECY By E. L. TEDDY When God wants to deal with a man, He plays with his brain. He turns his life around, But He takes not the decision from him. That is for the connected ones, anyway. But there is another sect Who has invented the in-between, Neither for Paul nor for Apollos. They don't know when they did it, How they did it, Why they did it? They are for the fulfillment of the prophecy. They know little or nothing about decision, So they are being decided for. Judas knew what would be for Christ, But not as good as knowing He would fulfill the prophecy. The prophecy says, He who kills by sword, Sword shall he bow. Little did I know That the beholder's sword Can devour the son of the beholder. In my hand, My power, The thrust. A butcher butchered by a butcher Who never knew He would butcher the butcher. I have lived to fear Not the prophecy, But the fulfillment. For I know not the time. "I have lived to fear not the prophecy, but the fulfillment, for I know not t...

  THE BEST WOMAN By E. L. TEDDY I have often heard men say- "Tell no woman, Not even your wife the key to your treasure house. Else, she will cook the best soup and you will sleep at the dining table." But why? And they said, she will return to the bush when she finally grows. "A woman is like a cat, No matter how she's fed, her eyes are still fixed to the pasture." I looked at dad- "Mum's not like that. I'm heading thirty, and she's still the same mum. Granny died in your father's house, in the same union. If your father grew old in this shell, What wealth his great yield took? In his dead soul is buried the key to wealth, to a treasure house. And here you are, struggling for help." I'm ready to do no such thing. So, I aim for the best woman. Do I know the best? "Yes." The Giver can work on it, And the best cannot look at the bush but the throne. And so, hiding my wealth is the same as losing my wealth. Because the day I ...

THE WOES OF SLAVERY By E. L. TEDDY Yes, some of them who were not equal to the task slept. The remaining ones were pinned, turned, and again pinned. Those who could not make it through the sail, The white lay their bed in the icy ocean. This line of inscription, my tears fuel the pen. Go to the lord's house, The very lord of Amalgamation, "Lugard" And there on his table raise a bowl of slaves blood. Dip your feather deep inside, And allow the spirit of sympathy to night your day. Walk down the Marina- And you will behold them all, line up Lining up like a pensioner whose right the mighty eat. Some on the neck, some on the hand, and some, the legs, The burden weighs. Right inside the cave of torment, 150 went for 30. "The black lives meant nothing, the white showed". With a very humid spirit, I summoned their souls. Some placed a curse on that day, That very day Dad knew Mum. Some wished the cool hands of death could touch them, the deeds of the honeymoon. Walk d...