The wind of the past blows into my head, they bring back – memories borne from either sour ordeals or sweet experiences , memories from the bow of the past , can be relished as honey yet can gnaw at your heart as a lion’s claws does with reckless abandon .They can draw smiles from your lips or fetch tears to your eyes. They will either make or break you, turning fiery shadows and haunting ghosts.
Threatening to haul down your dreams , and your very being to an abrupt crush.
By John Olonade
Me
