The stygian again

At the time when a thunder roars at  the purple sky ,he emerges from his lonely den.

 On a horse he gallops like a medieval knight. with flashing chains and gnarling dark armors he leaps into the darkness to bring light banishing ignorance.

Where cowards and fools destroy the balance of the world  , he polishes his finger tips sword with words and ideas that he types away sitting on his chair like a soldier at war with evil.

He brings the crying mothers and fathers and children ,there due freedom .

 He sees sense within confusion .

Words are his bullets and bombs scattering over the ever hungry monsters of falsehood and smiling traitors of today.He blogs with a passion of a singer and the intensity of a dancer. Never does he rests until he sees happiness for his fellow people .

The lord of the weak, the king of the sick .He is confidant about the world and shall restore its critical balance .A writer , his word bombs are also torches that show us the path to peace.

He awakens our senses and lenses towards the unwanted crimes  and their unwanted innocent victims.

Goldsmith of words he ignites the days and nights of the poor and needy.

Stygian .The brave writer who removes the blind spot in our brains.