It pretty much wasn’t about the Roman pillars that his arms looked like,

To her it wasn’t all that much about his mellifluous voice that could unbolt screws somewhere in her heart, just by the mention of her name,

She didn’t think it was about his eyes or nose, or was it his beard that made him look like this prince she had met in her dreams as a child, and might his name have been Charming?

She couldn’t be all that sure, maybe he just possessed some magic that turned her on.

She lay on the bed she hadn’t bothered to tuck into all this while, her thoughts preoccupied by the sights of this human that had seemingly been super-glued to her brain.

There’s this unpredictability that came with his words. She found it hard to understand why when he flattered her it sounded like lines from a Spanish soap script.

She had only known him less than twenty four hours,the sun hadn’t risen again since his existence hovered into her visage, but it felt like she’d known him since she got her first inkling of what love could be; back in the day when Cinderella’s tale was still to her a romance novel

Here she lay, staring into the starry night sky and playing out in her mind ‘their’ wedding; her dream beach wedding, Him in purple robes, herself in the shiniest of gowns, the monk with scrolls in hand…..

It took a mosquito bite to jerk her back to reality, to bring her back to the fact that chance might not let them meet again soon. She might not have known what charm he used on her, but she knew one thing, that he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. He’d made her day, or was it her life, and as sure as she could be: she’d fallen In love; AT FIRST SIGHT.


She lay supine.

She lay supine, sun-baked on the lawn
In helpless day-dream

The limerence he’d cast on her reverberating deep in her brains

And his ethereal physique walking her down lobbies in castles her mind’s figments built

She lay supine, moon-wrapped on the same lawn

Star staring

Sensing cromulence in his sweet sentiments

Deeming wicked his praises of her; thinkig his flattery all nefarious.

She loved him, she craved him by day,

She hated him, she loathed him by night,

She lay supine at a crossroads.

Of loner…

It’s been quite a while esteemed readers…and y’all’ve been on my neck since you can’t wait for loner’s chapters to start rolling out. 

Umm, actually, I’m not gonna lie, examinations do scare the hell out of me sometimes and the final exams are just around the corner so things pretty much just have to go the studies way.

Worry not though, I shall resume writing as soon as I’m done with my final paper. Stay tuned, mouthwatering stuff awaits

I hope the air is clear now😁.

The night the moon ate the dark.

It’s that night..

It’s that night again

The night the moon eats the dark a second time

It’s the night the words 

Marching down in jest

Dressed in black..drenched in red

Boots and fatigue…armed to tooth..

Make a grand homecoming

Twice bolder, thrice tough

Four times unabating.

This time with more of target practice

And advanced precision.

It’s the night the dreadful words come out of her mouth


It’s the night their bullets strike straight through my heart

It’s the night their swords slash at their sharpest;

It’s the night…the night she deals me a bold bereft

A second time.

A last time.™

At first sight.

Even in the brightest of days

your absence denies me the light

It aint an easy task walking a dark desert

thoughts of you bring me memories you and i

sitting vis-a-vis, exchanging glances

at incomprehendible creations

epitomes; beautifully sculptured

sharing an inexplicable feeling

a burning sensation right in the heart

an undying flame beneath the skin

you breathing fast, i even faster

staring into each others eye

loosing feeling of the bumpy road

an imaginary wireless connection between hearts

an engraving sculptured on the left of my heart

leaving my blood flowing you

i forgetting to alight at the intended stop

and not regretting walking all the way back

the inexplicable feeling

of love at first sight.

This poem first appeared on Edwardwrightblog on December 6th 2016.



Sour nostalgia, frightening scintillations, terrific chills, exasperating remembrances. What’s left of a love story. Archaic. Cloudy.


When her light started dimming, my days grew dark, darker with every passing hour as I lay in wait, patient, drenched in hope, and soaked in thought, waiting. Here I was, sacrificed by my beliefs, crucified by the ways my conscience deemed best.

The days I was counting, one after the other, wearing my knees off, trying to converse with someone whose existence I now doubted, threatened to turn into months. I was afraid another moon was going to show up before the words I awaited came out of her mouth. The words that would either plaster happiness on my existence or whoop me up, like a Cherokee drum, the Dwayne Johnson way.

I’d always asked questions my whole life. I can still remember how mother’s mood would dramatically change, thanks to my inquinsitive nature. I can still recall the many times when the curious me got on her nerves. Well, now, all that qualifies to be called a by-gone, a sweet past, because at least back then I would get answers albeit never enough to quench the thirst. The array of questions that flooded my mind now disoriented my being. Many questions and no one to ask, let alone to answer them. It shredded my insides that a why or how always was in my brain making painful reverberations, threatening to drive me mental if answers didn’t come; but ow, I was far from being saved.

I could still remember the old me. The good old Ed. I still remembered how I’d sworn to myself to not ever be blinded by love. I could applaud myself for how long I’d managed to religiously live by that principle, and still, I remember how that principle came to stop seeing the light of day. She happened. She did happen, and whenever I laid my eyes on her, her beauty dealt blows to the weak ideas I had about love, vigorously strangling them, squeezing all the life out of them and replacing them with proof that love indeed could happen at first sight.

It was the start of a story, the beginning of an end.


Stay tuned.

Chapters will start rolling out soon.

In her full bloom.

Down the dirt paths that snaked the woods,

Oft walked a pair of tiny feet,

Skipping to a hummed tune,

And striding soft on the ground,


Round the barks of the trees that stood the woods,

Oft rubbed a pair of little palms,

Tapping her fingers dirty,

And loving the play,


Across the silence that reigned the woods,

Oft cracked the sound of a rejuvenated laughter,

Chuckling to Daddy’s jokes,

And cracking ribs uncontrollably,


Behind the widest trees that lived the woods

Oft hid a tiny baby

Hardening the game for Daddy

Enjoying the ‘hide and seek’


But now 

That’s nothing more than a good yesterday

That I oft re-live in my daydreams.


Down the dirt paths

And past the widest trees

Of the silent woods,

With a pair of majestic feet

A pair of alluring hands

And a breathtaking smile,

Oft walks my full grown princess

In her full bloom.