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Four Sundays of April Deluxe Edition

on April 24, 2022

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Four Sundays of April Deluxe Edition

on April 17, 2022

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Four Sundays of April Deluxe Edition

on April 10, 2022

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Four Sundays of April Deluxe Edition

on April 03, 2022

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Shallom Paul

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I'm Shallom III

The Smug Realm Echoes of "I'm Shallom" boom through the realm, like a battle cry from high mountains to the valleys below. "The Shallom has come. The prophecy is true. Our end is nigh" they cried as they wandered in confusion and panic. The Smugs went berserk, in chaos and panic. Their shrieks and wails sounded through the land. The mountains shook, the badgers raged. The valleys became clouded with mist and fog, This was the apocalypse. Meanwhile, the Sanctum called a meet with all Smug heads. Skalak, The Smug Champion came also even though he was not invited. "Champion this is a solemn meeting of all heads. Go, return to your abode and we will summon you." The Sanctum said. "Profane Sanctum, Heads, I revere you. An emergency like this does not need courtesy call, less a formal invite. I come here of my own accord, to give you a proposal." The Champion said. "Champion, this is not place and time for your proposal. We shall decide when t

Lancelot and Gwendolyn III

🎶Young man came from hunting faint, tired and weary, What does ail my Lord, my dearie? Oh, brother dear, let my bed be made. For I feel the gripe of the woody nightshade. Men need a man would die as soon, Out of the light of a mage's moon, But it's not by bone, but yet by blade, Can break the magic that the devil made, And it's not my fire, but was forged in flame. Can drown the sorrows of a huntsman's pain. This young man he died fair soon. By the light of a hunter'e moon. 'Twas not by bone, nor yet by blade, Of the berries of the woody nightshade, Oh Father dear lie and be safe, From the path that the devil made.🎶 - The Devil and the Huntsman. Two days ride to Camelot, on horse back along the roads and plains, foot marches on rivers and rocky lands. They set up camp and renaissance at a village 5 miles West of Camelot. King Arthur read out the priorities: Take back the Kingdom, kill whoever resist, free Guinevere and Bedivere and anyone else held hostage.

Lancelot and Gwendolyn

Intro Y'all know the Pendragon story, Guy Ritchie's adaptation rii, cool. King Arthur, with the Knights of the Round Table defeated the tyrannical King Vortigen with help from the unnamed mage. But this is a different story, the one no one told you and you didn't care to find out. Main Shii Arthur Pendragon, having defeated his uncle Vortigen on the ruins of the tower of Modred. His first two years on his rightful throne were lavished on eliminating other threats, making treaties and generally ensuring peace to pave way for normalcy distorted by the past Monarch. Successful he was, having the Excalibur always and flanked by the Knights of the Round Table, headed by Lord Bedivere, Lord Percival, Lord Gundor, Sir Bandwidth, Sir Tristan, Lord Williams (Goosefat Bill), Sir Vandressor, Sir George, Sir Mike (Flat nose), Lord Credence and Lord Lancelot. A major ingredient of course is Merlin. Yes, the Maje King rose from his limbo as a result of the death of Vortigen. Now having

Lancelot and Gwendolyn II

It was a deep plunge into the lake, but Lancelot managed to swim ashore, pulling Gwendolyn with him. Lancelot's now dead horse pulled to the shore, towards him. A waste of great animal. He had stitched up Gwendolyn's wounds and laid her beside the fire he made. He sat in deep thoughts. He watched her carefully, her fine wet hair, rustic clothes, light snore. Who was this Gwendolyn. Why the semblance with Guinevere. Why is she so beautiful. Then the other reality dawned on him. He is now fugitive of his country. How so even? No one to give answers to this deep shit. Where was the ploy soothing from. What manner of fuckery is this? All battles he's fought, the flags he's hoisted, the chant to the glory of Camelot, the triumphant marches around the cities. No one to give him answers. Well so he thought. 🎶 Pull me up by my bootstraps, O Virgin Lady of the Lake, Nimue, come of the still waters. Pull me to the light, And let the triumphant sun smile on me once more .🎶 Lanc

I'm Shallom

It was dark in the late night, dead silent too. The audible noise and yells broke into the trance Smell of ovary waters hit the noses of those present The young father of three, 10, 7 and 5 years old each and hopefully a fourth held his wife gently, guiding her to the ready bike of a neighbour alerted prior of the event The hospital wasn't far but yea they need it anyways The young boys, aware of what's going on stood by the doorway, watching helplessly as their mother was carted away Another neighbour, a slightly old woman ushered them to their room and tucked them in bed, assuring them that everything's fine In defiance, they swiftly dashed out of bed and chased after their parents on foot, pushing the old lady to the ground She tried in vain to call them back but they kept on their course The hospital was some 100 yards from their house so it was quite worth it The youngest boy, now tired stopped abruptly and bent on his knees trying to catch his breath The eldest noti

Four Sundays of April Deluxe Edition

The Loop It's 5am looking like noon, New crib smells of old dust, Housemates cleaning the littered sitting room, Sit on the kitchen island, Munch on your akara burger, And drink Tom Brown. Run 12 miles across the bridge Then back again, Yoga in the park, Sink your naked soles in the warm grass, Meditate on the hill. Sip up your protein shake, Take an ice bath after. Bake bacon and cheese cake for breakfast, Smile at your roomies, Hand them each a plate. Blend coconut with groundnuts and peaches, Pour fresh cream. Hand them a glass, Wish them a nice day. Light up your kpoli, Smoke the blunt, Make lean, Swallow perc and Molly, Make a brownie and lick meth, Sniff on coke, Chew bush, Drink up your whiskey, Smash the bottle on the wall. Pull up the parking lot, Curse once more on your steering wheel. Grab your knapsack, Sit on your computer and fondle the keys, Roll up your sleeves in focused work, Sign out of the day, Curse again, This time to the traffic. Sulk in your room for few hou

I'm Shallom II

Arus, Borus, Corvus and Derus. Four sons of Xeros and Mavinox. Humble and meek is their beginnings, and the end lol. Xeros, the father, son of Quorus, son of Phorus, from the house of Frezarus of the Heresus dynasty dating back to unknown centuries of men of valor and tranquility. Mavinox the mother, of the lines of known healers and traditionalists of the infamous Chrovorix, Arus the first son, mighty in size and bold in character. Borus the second son, lanky and authoritative. Corvus the third son, brightest face but soft of heart. Then Derus, this very Derus the fourth son, him is Shallom, The Shallom who lives up the name. They was an ordinary family, Full of solitude and simplicity. Not pride but a character, geological trait or some shit whatever. Modest living, even with the huge chunk of gold in reserves they own. Life was at its peak with the arrival of Derus, He was the Shallom, The promised Shallom. The much anticipated Shallom. The long lost Shallom. The hidden Shallom.

Four Sundays of April: The Epilogue

Free Thoughts These be the end time, time's running out I'm in a race I don't know the finish time, I go anyways I face challenges here and there, the country, the society I'm at war with enemies I know I is thisenemy My conscience sold out, my real beings dead Most times I wanna be who I'm not to please the world I plagiarised just to feel among Wearing my Louis Vuitton and Versace on AC just to be like others Locking my hair to have the look Stress myself out in the gym to be in shape Increase my body count to boast to the homies Work strenuous jobs, no dignity attached to afford all these All for what, fun, fame, fortune? Is it worth it? Love is a game of the rich, for the feeling no more Tsulisime said to choose my poison, now I'm dead Uni that I thought I'll explore our many options in life is so choky And back home, lots of expectations with no encouragement Suicide may be an option yunno Just to take the leap of death and end it all All the stress an

Four Sundays of April: The Love

Love. Let's talk about love Is it anything and everything you hoped for I know the feeling haunt you, or don't the feeling haunt you That strong feeling of attraction to the unlikely person All of a sudden you can't help but stare continuously at her Your mind always bring images of her gorgeous visage That's when her ebony skin stands out and shine like bronze exposed to the blazing sun, melanin popping And her lips looking so succulent and soft Her eyes begin to shoot darts of deflecting lights and when she barts her eye lashes, God it's heavenly Talk about her long straight legs, complimenting her wide hips Her bust standing so firm, damn perky tits That's when your heart begins pumping excess blood all round Your legs tremble at her presence You begin to steal glances every now and then You google stalk her and like her every posts Sometimes you cat fish just to know more bout her Her entire existence is mesmerising to you She's a stimuli you can't

Four Sundays of April Deluxe Edition

The Intro Chapter 2 Sequel to the previous? This is opulent and grand, I promise you. Continuation rather, If you follow my drift. Entrailed by that one? Wait for this one. Trust in the energy, Feel the words in your soul. This ain't a musical yoh, Still songs unsunged. Hang on tight, I'm coming as a stringer, A Wordsmith stepping hard on the bellows, Fiery flames up the furnace, I craft the finest pieces round here. I make the finest pieces to pierce your soul, Imma give you something you like, Take you on an adventure you can't refuse. I'm no therapist, Not the rapist, A guardian of my universe, The watcher maybe. I'll pull through the strings that hold your heart, Unchain the hidden thoughts you keep there. This is an exposé of your darkest secrets, I'm not begotten of Legilimens, That's why they jelly me. Let's get into this sweet intimacy with my words. Like an ice bathe on a hot summer day. Come drink from my pouch, Cast your burdens on yourself Wa

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