Write the option that you consider the most appropriate in your answer sheets:

 (a) When darkness falls there is ___________________________. (i) complete silence everywhere (ii) a shroud covering all things (iii) the crying of the lapwing to be heard (iv) gloom and desolation (b) When does the lapwing come out? (i) at dawn (ii) at night (iii) just before dawn (iv) in the morning (c) Why does the poet open the window? (i) he can get some light (ii) he can hear the lapwing (iii) he can see the lapwing (iv) he can get some air. (d) What are the causes of the Lapwing's misery? (i) loneliness and gloom (ii) loss and pain (iii) darkness and loss (iv) darkness and pain (e) The lapwing's cry fills the poet with _____________________ . (i) longing (ii) anger (iii) unhappiness (iv) joy.

Q7. Read the poem given below and write the option that you consider the most appropriate : 1×6=6 

The island dreams under the dawn 

And great boughs drop tranquillity; 

The peahens dance on a smooth lawn, 

A parrot sways upon a tree, 

Raging at his own image in the enamelled sea. 

Here we will moor our lonely ship 

And wander ever with woven hands, 

Murmauring softly lip to lip, 

Along the grass, along the sands, 

Murmauring how far away are the unquiet lands: 

How we alone of mortals are 

Hid under quiet boughs apart, 

While our love grow and Indian star, 

A meteor of the burning heart, 

One with the tide that gleams, the wings that gleam and dart, 

The heavy boughs, the burnished dove 

That moans and sighs a hundred days: 

How when we die our shades will rove, 

When eve has hushed the feathered ways, 

With vapoury footsole by the water's drowsy blaze. 

A. 'boughs drop tranquillity means the wind... i) has started blowing ii) has stopped blowing iii) has disturbed islanders dreams iv) caused a sea storm B. The parrot is very excited to find its i) swaying joy ii) image formed in the mirror iii) reflection in the sea. iv) loneliness on the tree C. The narrator and his companion would i) leave their ship and rest on sands ii) fasten their ship and go for a walk iii) repair their ship and restart their journey iv) fasten their ship to the parrot's tree D. 'alone of mortal's means away from the company of ... i) animal kingdom ii) other sailors iii) human beings iv) parrots and peahens E. When the islanders die, the evening will become i) noisy and violent ii) silent and tranquil iii) snowy and frosty iv) damp and dull

 F. Find the word in the poem which means same as - 'wander without a settled destination'. i) sways ii) dart iii) rove iv) moans.

Q8. Read the poem given below and write the option that you consider the most appropriate : 1×6=6 

Bas Ben Adhem 

My fellow man I do not care for.

 I often ask me. What's he there for? 

The only answer I can find Is, 

Reproduction of his kind. 

If I'm supposed to swallow that, 

Winnetka is my habitat.

Isn't it time to carve Hic Jacet 

Above that Reproduction racket? 

To make the matter more succinct; 

Suppose my fellow man extinct. 

Why, who would not approve the plan

 Save possibly my fellow man? 

Yet with a politician's voice 

He names himself as Nature's choice. 

The finest of the human race 

Are bad in figure, worse in face.

 Yet just because they have two legs

 And come from storks instead of eggs 

They count the spacious firmament 

As something to be charged and sent. 

Though man created cross-town traffic, 

The Daily Mirror, News and Graphic, 

The pastoral fight and fighting pastor,

 And Queen Marie and Lady Astor, 

He hails himself with drum and fife 

And bullies lower forms of life.

 Not that I think much depends 

On how we treat our feathered friends, 

Or hold the wrinkled elephant 

A nobler creature than mu aunt. 

It's simply that I'm sure I can

 Get on without my fellow man. 

------Ogden Nash 

A. The narrator believes that the only purpose of his fellow man's existence is .... i) creating something new ii) producing food grains iii) reproducing individuals of his kind iv) cultivating good culture. B. The fellow man should be saved to preserve his entity / existence before he .... i) becomes outdated ii) becomes old and tired iii) becomes incapable of doing any work. iv) becomes extinct C. The narrator believes that human beings on this planet have given them a.. i) bad name ii) bad home iii) sad future iv) better future D. The man has designed and devised many things but he has been very harsh and unkind to .... i) neighbouring people ii) people across the seas iii) lower forms of life iv) aliens from other planet. E. 'Our feathered friends' refer to .... i) people with fur hats ii) friends who accompany us to 300 iii) Birds in general iv) Bird watches.

 F. Find the word in the poem which means ____ terse, concise. i) worse ii) spacious iii) succinct iv) wrinkled.

Q9. Read the poem given below and write the option that you consider the most appropriate : 1×6=6 MENDING WALL - Robert Frost 

Something there is that doesn't love a wall. 

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

 And spills the upper boulders in the sun, 

And makes gaps even two can pass abreast. 

The work of hunters is another thing: 

I have come after them and made repair 

Where they have left not one stone on a stone, 

But they would have the rabbit out of hiding, 

To please the yelping dogs. 

The gaps I mean, 

 No one has seen them made or heard them made,

 But at spring mending-time we find them there. 

I let my neighbour know beyond the hill 

And on a day we meet to walk the line 

And set the wall between us once again. 

We keep the wall between us as we go. 

To each the boulders that have fallen to each. 

And some are loaves and some so nearly balls 

We have to use a spell to make them balance: 

'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!' 

We wear our fingers rough with handling them. 

Oh, just another kind of out-door game, 

One on a side. It comes to little more: 

There where it is we do not need the wall: 

He is all pine and I am apple orchard. 

My apple trees will never get across 

And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. 

He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbours'. 

Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder 

If I could put a notion in his head: 

'Why do they make good neighbours? 

Isn't it Where there are cows? 

But here there are no cows. 

Before I built a wall I'd ask to know 

What I was walling in or walling out,

 And to whom I was like to give offense.

 Something there is that doesn't love a wall,. 

That wants it down.' I could say 

'.Elves' to him,

 But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather 

He said it for himself. 

I see him there 

Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top 

In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed. 

He moves in darkness as it seems to me 

Not of woods only and the shade of trees. 

He will not go behind his father's saying,

 And he likes having thought of it so well 

He says again. "Good fences make good neighbours." 

A. Something is there that makes i) cracks in a wall ii) wall writing on a wall iii) gaps in a wall iv) nests in a wall B. Hunters also bring down a wall so that they can help their i) friends who dislike wall ii) dogs which are hungry iii) neighbours who are unfriendly iv) cattle which need fodder C. The narrator and his neighbour undertake the mending task .... i) Whenever they get hired labourers ii) When there is a chance of quarrel iii) during spring season iv) during summer holidays. D. The narrator compares the mending exercise with ..... i) an outdoor game ii) a theatre show iii) an adventure iv) a friends get together E. The neighbour has been compared with a ... i) beggar ii) savage iii) soldier iv) fighter. 

F. 'darkness' refers to... i) complete absense of light ii) cloudy weather iii) ignorance and lack of knowledge iv) dense shade of trees and plants.

Q10. Read the poem given below and write the option that you consider the most appropriate : 1×6=6

 I wandered lonely as a cloud

 That floats on high o'er vales and hills, 

When all at once I saw a crowd, 

A host, of golden daffodils;

Since high school, Jin, a billionaire CEO, has neglected all the other women in his life in order to pursue Eunji, his dream girl. In his dreams, she wove an exciting future for them. But he was afraid to confess to her how he felt. 

Even though she had no feelings for him, Eunji, a cheerful young lady, agreed to date him. But he was too reserved for her. "He isn't my kind of guy" She gave up hope of ever seeing him again. 

Jin had plenty of time to catch her, but he let her slip through his grasp. In the end, he was left with nothing. 

Is this going to be the last chapter? Or is this the culmination of a fresh start that is about to begin?

If he is shy, then why the Novel named 'Domineering Husband'? Find out reading the novel.


MINE BOOK SERIES
★ My Playboy Is a Prince
★ My Domineering Husband
★ My Wicked Male Lead
═══════════════════════════

POINTS TO BE NOTED

• [GOLD TIER WINNER in WFP#23]
• No smut scenes uptill Chapter 10.
• Read the auxiliary chapter if you are a New Reader.
• This Novel features Mature and R-18 contents, however, no rape.
• Join the author's server to discuss This Novel and get fanarts.
• Any comments that are baseless and not meant for the novel will be Deleted.
• Thanks for reading.

═══════════════════════════


Contact:
•Discord - Tisha#6746
•Join my server - https://discord.gg/nzZuYFhVEX
•Instagram - @imaginetishad , @tishad.arts , @mistress_of_leo

SUPPORT ME:
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IF YOU ARE NOT READING THIS BOOK ON webnovel.com THEN THIS BOOK IS STOLEN BY THAT SITE. THE AUTHOR ONLY PUBLISH ON WEBNOVEL.

Sunlight beckons, a new dawn's day,
Chasing away the dark night's grey. 
,
Proud hills and white forests covered the eye,
A frozen world beneath a bold blue sky. 
,
In this new dawn, there danced a white fox,
In glittering snow, and ice, and frost. 
,
From tree to tree, from hill to hill,
The fox danced wherever she will. 
,
Come dawn, come noon, the fox yet spun,
A dance of joy, a dance of fun. 
,
Now marches on, the evening's dark,
Does that free dance yet fall apart?
,
Nay, that white fox dances true,
From dawn to dusk, she begins anew. 
,
And as the light yet fades to grey,
That fox prepares a new dawn's day.
_
Written by: AuthorWiz
Written on: March 26th, 2018
Inspired by: Love (Poem I wrote when I was in love.)

I decided to post some poems I've written and also will post most poems given by anyone, to find out how, read "Anthology Expectations"
Please have fun reading these poems.;,;.
__
Thank you silentscarlettt for the cover.
Please check out her books:
https://www.webnovel.com/book/11134602906265805/The-Wheel-of-Transmigration
__
To chat with DeJeL and find other novels by DeJeL:
tiny.cc/DJLWNC

I did everything as Zinna said and declared on the fifth day through wise owl that I am pregnant. Asher was over the moon and wanted to bring me in the royal house for nice treatment and support but for my plan to work I had to refuse him. Since I had few miscarriages before he didn't argue with me. 


I with the help of wise owl and few of my trusted maids made the nest more strongly and covered it with thick leaves to hide it from view. Foods and water are delivered to me everyday and today is the day I deliver my egg. Asher wanted to stay but I send him by saying him to pray for me. Now I am waiting for Zinna. 


will she turn up ? she will not ditch me at such crucial moment right ? or worse what if she did all that just to take revenge from me ? or whatif she didn't succeeded and got caught in the act ? Anything can happen lord Saturn please help me. If I don't have a kid by the end of the day than I may not have a husband for rest of my life.  I stationed someone to keep an eye for Zinna but so much time has gone but no one came.  Asher will be here soon what will I do ? 


" Where is she ? we can't delay any more . " said our royal physician. I knew I shouldn't have believed on her , she cheated me , that Vail bird has cheated me. If she doesn't come today than what will I do ? How will I face Asher ? will he ever trust me again ? wouldn't priest win the Battle easily ? what should I do ? 

Just as I was thinking rubbish I heard a rattling sound and saw zinna coming through the back route. lord Saturn bless her she came. she sat on the nest and than put down the cloth bag and took out an egg from the bag and placed it nicely in my nest .  

" Here you go queen. " she said. I asked her " What took you that long time ? " she sat on the edge and told "  I had to wait for the mother to leave her nest so that I can bring it for you. I had to lay eggs and than bring them. " and I was doubting her for nothing. 

" You have another egg on that bag for whom that one is for ? " I asked her . she looked at her bag and told " Thats for another kingdom , seems like every kingdom has their own set of secrets. " Which kingdom can be facing such troubles ? " Seems like you are doing quite good social service. " I told her , she laughed and told " Who knew right ? ....but don't get too sentimental that queen has promised me shelter for next two years. " of course how can see work without her own profit. " Like people say charity begins at home. " she said, something she can tell and that also so confidently. 
 

I gave her our agreement papers and she told " Are you sure.... Everything that you are doing to keep your love is worth it ?...Asher is worth it ? " she asked and I really don't know the answer. " In love its better sometimes if you don't know the answer. Asher may change , may forget but I have to complete my duty right ? " I told her , she nodded and told " But dont forget the poem that I told you earlier. The poem of the poet Alexander vasiliu - 

' Dear woman ,
if you want to heal your broken heart ,
always remind yourself.
Don't beg for love 
Don't beg for love 
Don't beg for love 
Don't beg for love 
Don't beg for love 
love comes as a gift. 

" Yes , I will remember " I told her , my doctor gave her some nutritious food and I offered her to stay for the night as she looked very tired from giving birth and all the flying she did today. But she refused and told "  Thanks for the offer but a mother is waiting for me you know. As the poet ' Robert Frost ' in his poem  ' Stopping by the woods on a snowy evening ' said - 



Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   


My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   


He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound's the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   


The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.


 " Alright than I wouldn't stop you . " I told her , she once again took her bag left. she quickly disappeared in the sky like nothing happened , everything is fine.
I thought I was the only one trying to cheat my husband to keep my post , looks like their are more like me.  sometimes I envy Zinna , the life she leads is so good, so free from all this responsibilities and duties but than its very lonely. But whom am I kidding ? Am I not lonely ? 


I looked at the egg , different emotions hit me differently , I felt bad for the mother , got scared at the thought of getting caught and my heart got filled with love thinking I will soon be a mother , soon someone will call me mom. I am very excited. 

" Queen I have made the nest look like that you have just given birth....let me help you make our prince comfortable. " she said and I let her do the necessary things . I have new duties now , hope I can do them properly. I have to arrange people for the safety of the nest or the predators of the forest can attack my child and harm him or her. 

" Let the king and his kingdom know Queen Shelley has given birth " the doctor has given instruction to the guards. Hope everything goes well. lord Saturn please help me with my plan. 



" I really don't know what to write but since you want me to write something I'll write something. "

Ever watched Disney animation. I already asked this question to somebody but who is your favorite Disney Princess ? Every Disney Princess usually have some back story or another and just based on that my favorite is Mulan. You may be thinking Mulan is not a Disney Princess and all and yes your right technically she isn't one but she deserve to be so and so. 

Though I really didn't do any search back than, the first time I knew about her back story a was when I read it in ' I Really am A Superstar '. I really like the folktale (  I don't know whether it is a folktale or poem or what it is ) it was really something which most feminist have to learn from and to this day ' Ode to Mulan ' is still one of my favorite though I still haven't read any of the Four Great Classical Novels to really compare it to, and yes I also read some works by Li Bai and some Chinese guy whose name I forgot, don't blame cause Chinese name are hard for others. Also recommend me which one to read.

Also I have to say I really missed IRAS since I completed it through the dark side ( LNMTL ), such a shame it was stopped. And out of all the literature works be it poems or novels or whatever my favorite is ' The Road Not Taken ' by Robert Frost..

Now enough of the sharing problem if that is what it is called.

I really want to say something in short, more of a summary of  today. If you've read my previous chapter yesterday, today could be imagined as exactly as yesterday except of that instead of LPM we have SWC ( Soil and Water Conservation ), and that was pretty much today. Also tomorrow is my roommate's birthday, so 'yayyy' but I never really celebrate birthday so 'awwww'. Also I skipped dinner again and I am currently surviving on junk foods.

This is my tenth chapter so far so I wanna make it a little interesting, an introduction to be exact. 

My name is H.D.Bezelel and nicknamed myself as Bezelel666 which is a bit satanic cause it is. My parents named me after Beelzebub the Prince of Hell. I'm just kidding though, but am I ? I really love reading though I don't have the talent nor the willpower to do so, but a lot have happened in my life and I was really frustrated with my life and depressed and shit, more of a nihilist. I was on the verge of exploding ( not literally though ) and I myself knew I need to relieve some tension which led me here to write. I really don't care what I write as long as I am writing something though albeit be good or back, heck there might even be some racial slur though. And I really wanna say Thank you for being here with me though, I don't know whether I'll even stop and I trying to do this daily. Also I am doing my third semester for Bachelor in Agriculture and I hate herbarium collection.

Also you might have noticed that I am very lazy and I don't have the willpower to even do double checking so I sure there are a lot of mistakes, consider this as me growing up.

' Tired I am
  Tired,  
  Very Tired.
  Just tired though '


Also

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I was too bored.
So here I am writing this daily life of mine with mostly lies and false names.

Also I've been told I am socially awkward

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Elijah... 

﻿ 

I have been running through it again and again. Still my mind can't wrap it around those words. It's like someone marked my mistakes with a highlighter and no matter how many lemons I squeeze, it just doesn't fade away. 

This woman, has put me inside the mirror and now I am trapped. Yet somehow, I don't hate her. She said the truth after all. For a moment there I didn't even want to show her this particular painting. Fear of it's judgment is spreading to every nerve of my body and the worst is, even after being acquainted with the fact, there is nothing I can do. I guess, this works in a good way too, because suddenly I was not afraid of this one particular thing. The fear of showing it to someone. After all she was not going to say anything that I already didn't know. Right? 

Penelope... 

He has lost his cheer. I mean it's not like he was ecstatic to see me before as well. He has been nervous all this time. But atleast it was a good kind of nervousness, now it's the 

"I am running for hills" kind of nervousness. I don't even know why I am thinking about all this too much. May be because he is not an arrogant jerk like most of the artists are or because he is keeping up his act of being a gentleman very nicely. Or it could be both. Still I shouldn't let it effect me. Right? 

The moment we enter the backroom, my nose crunches up at the smell of wet wood. Probably the repercussions of yesterday's storm. He goes deeper into the room and brings a painting, displaying it on the wooden stand, he waves his hands in front of it. 

"This is it!" I step forward to unveil the canvas, but stop and look at him with an obvious question on my face. 

"Go ahead." he says shrugging. Either his eyes are void of any emotion or I have lost my ability to read people. Shaking my head, I finally unveil this one piece that no one can stop talking about. 

And let me tell you, it is breathtaking. I can literally, in every sense feel every carress of the breeze that he has drawn with his brush. That lady walking against the wind is the most beautiful and fierce woman I have ever seen. It's like she owns the world and lives every essence of it at the same time. I have no idea why, but the first word that came to my mind when I saw it was... Fascinating. It's hard not to fall in love with the painting. In that very moment I feel jealous of his wife. How lucky she is to have someone draw her like this, even after she is gone. How lucky she is to have someone love her like this. But then again, I wouldn't know love if it slapped me in the face. What do I know, right? 

I look back at him to tell him what a beauty he has painted, when I notice he is looking out of the window, with his arms crossed behind him, absolutely uninterested. What is wrong with him? Now that I want to compliment him, he doesn't want it. He really is weird. So I call out to him. 

"Mr. Ross? Should we go now?" I don't want to say anything to him. 

Elijah... 

She is still standing in front of the stand staring at the painting, when I turn my back towards her. Looking out of the window, I wonder what I was going to do with my life, now that being an artist was painted in question marks. I can almost see the words from this poem I read in school, dancing in the window panes. I was called, 'The Road not Taken' by 'Robert Frost'. 

And be one traveler, long I stood 

And looked down one as far as I could 

To where it bent in the undergrowth; 

I have no idea, how it fits the situation or if it even does. But it was one hell of poem. I don't remember it all, just these lines and the last stanza. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh 

Somewhere ages and ages hence: 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— 

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference. 

Scarlett would have loved to see me reciting a poem. I am almost about to smile at this thought, when her voice interrupts me again. 

"Mr. Ross?" she says and waits for me to turn. When she has my full attention, she continues, "should we go now?" I am almost taken aback at her lack of response towards this work of mine, but I don't say anything. I really don't have the energy to hear anymore of my faults and then dwell into a bigger pit of dissapointment. So, I simply nod and gesture for her to go first. 

After another forty five minutes or so, of sitting in the gallery and answering her questions. She asked about everything. Scarlett, Banking, How I got my inspiration and Why I ever started painting. The most strange thing was that the only question she asked me about 'The girl in the Blue Dress' was if it was my wife or not. I told her 'No'. Then she wanted to know who it was and it didn't interest her much when she found out, that it was just a common girl from New York, that I came across. 

She didn't ask anything else. I didn't bother telling her. What was the point even? 

When they had everything they needed, she informed us about the date, article was to be published and started collecting their things. Liam and I walked them to their cab and just when she was about to sit in, she held her hand out and said in a curt voice, 

"Mr. Ross, It was a pleasure meeting you." Even though I couldn't see her eyes behind those shades, I knew it was just a formality. I shook her hand and replied in the same tone, 

"So was for me, Miss Penelope." 

And with that we went on our own ways.

How do you live without someone you had your entire life planned with?
How do you even look at future the same way again?
This isn't a tragedy or an adventure or ahot romance. In this story you don't die for someone you love, you rather live for them.
A story of second chances, of growing together from two different dimensions.A story of Elijah, a 29 year old banker who lost has his whole world turned upside down from just a phone call. Now he is on a journey to find his purpose in life and may be.... another chance at love.

It's all chaos in the middle of a Labyrinth.......
Let's find a way out.......

Ickapoo's journey to community is redemptive, because he is Noble rather than Savage, a rare gem and diamond amidst vast masses of dead soil, mud, ground.
There are many images of redemption amidst the hell of war-“Saw God through the mud”, “merry to laugh” “Dropped off fear” “Faces that curse are seraphic” “Perceived much beauty”
	Through these images we are falsely led to believe that war is initially redemptive. For instance the poet thinks he experiences divine experiences such as witnessing God through the mud, and the sharing merry companionship and camaraderie with his fellow soldiers, and overcoming fear through the companionship.
	Even the faces that curse are seraphic, suggesting that there are angels during wartime and even though the experience is hellish these soldiers are raised to angelic status. Also the poet states there is beauty even amidst the suffering as he perceived much beauty.
	However there is a twist- the common end is hell. For allies and enemies the common destination is hell. Heaven is only the destination ‘for a shell’. The poet is condemning war- men are worth your tears- your pity and sympathy. You are not worth their merriment- you do deserve to laugh at their suffering and live off it. The poet hears music during war, and sees illusions of beauty, but argues that all these are illusions as war is a damning experience.
	Hence all the fellowships and beauty experienced during war is an illusion because the common destination of all is hell. The friendships that are forged mean nothing because war is an accursed and damning experience in which one’s destination is hell because of the moral wretchedness of the unholy killing that goes on.
	The poet is trying to say all the images of redemption in war are an illusion and that there is nothing redemptive, holy or divine about war despite what all political leaders say to the contrary. All the joy and peace experienced during war is an illusion as war is a damning experience in which one is headed not for redemption, but damnation as the common end of those who kill is hell.
	Hence the poet condemns war and thinks there is no good end to it. All the images of beauty and fellowship during war and divine justification are mere illusions. War is a damning experience because it is ultimately unholy- killing is a sin, and hence the experience of war is liked to damnation.
The Road not taken by Robert Frost
	The road not taken is about taking the less commonly travelled path and emerging the better for it- choosing the less travelled path- about choices in life and choosing the less well travelled path and emerging a winner. There is an allusion to Frosts’s choice of being a poet and artist- which has made all the difference because he has left a legacy behind of art and poetry.
	The poet uses the metaphor of the road to liken life choices to a journey in the woods. The poet says that the paths looked equivalent except for the fact that one wanted wear and was less well trodden. The poet argues that by choosing this path, it has made all the difference to his life as he has emerged an individual who has had the courage to be different and to stand up for his own beliefs.
	   I believe that the metaphor of the road as a journey for life paths used is effective. It is true that life resembles a journey and that different choices resemble taking different paths in a road at a juncture. The poet’s use of metaphor to suggest that being an individual and choosing the less travelled road is effective because life is a journey, in which you make different choices that lead to different paths. For instance, I could choose to be an engineer, which is what most people do, or a poet like Frost, which is the less profitable but what Frost argues is the more enriching and rewarding experience.
	In the poem Frost argues that choosing a different path and daring to be different as well as choosing the more lonely path has proved more rewarding than taking the path that everybody else chooses. It is true that by choosing the less well trodden path, Frost has emerged as an individual and unique and better for the choice he chooses because he has emerged different and unique.
	Yet Frost does not highlight the dangers of choosing the road less travelled. While it is true that one emerges an individual and unique, it is also true that there are greater dangers. One could be unique, but not acknowledged for the value of one’s difference.So while the metaphor for life as a journey is apt, I feel that he has only outlined the positive rewards of being different without acknowledging the dangers of taking such a route.
Ever ready bank accounts by Wole Soyinka
	Ever ready bank accounts is about African poverty. Will God dispense spiritual wealth to Africans even when they are poor on earth? It is also about slavery and exploitation. Will God be just to Africans and balance the injustice done to them on earth in heaven?
	The  poet describes the ever ready bank accounts as red, highlighting the fact that blacks live in a constant state of poverty. The reference to bread and Jesus dividing the loaves into plenty is a reference to charity and aid given to the Africans and how it can never be enough for the African population- stacked too full of loaves cannot embrace mankind. So while there is aid for the African population, it is not enough as the African continent is too large to feed completely.
	The poet highlights the wretchedness of the African situation, where children slay a cockroach for a meal. Children are reduced to eating insects and pests because they cannot find proper food. Their fathers are foragers, referring to the fact that because of their poverty, Africans are reduced to eating trash and rubbish left over by rich people. They eat houseflies and beetles and cockroaches because they are too poor for normal meals.
	The poet highlights the inequality of the African situation  saying that charity is a one way street. The Africans are at the mercy of richer countries who deign to give them aid, their situation of extreme poverty puts them at a disadvantaged position of being reduced to beggars and being vulnerable to the mercies and kindnesses of richer countries who acknowledged their plight.
	The poet that says that while justice and charity on this earth is a one way street, God’s charity and justice is infinite. While charity is calculated on earth and limited, God’s charity knows no limits.Everything is calculated and put on a balance sheet in this life and claimed in terms of debt that the African population owes the world, but the poet suggests that God’s justice is not earthly justice because God’s justice does not calculate.
	The poet thus highlights the plight of African poverty and how they are victims of debt placed at the mercy of charity. The poet says that all this charity is calculated in terms of debt on earth, but in heaven, God’s justice will exceed this sense of calculation and lack of charity. God’s benevolence is far greater than earthly charity.




It was the year 2046. In the distant and faraway planet or Yr lived a lonely alien named Ickapoo. It had no friends as all its species had been vanquished from a meteor storm. In its solitude and misery it pined for a companion.
Yr was a bare and inhospitable planet. With winds blowing at 150 km an hour, it was virtually impossible to see past the blizzard and storm. Ickapoo yearned for friends and company. Many a time he fiddled with his transistor radio, sending out messages and hoping for a response. He sent fire launchers and rockets into space, hoping that some space traveler would find out about his existence. Ickapoo was an alienated alien. In the same way humans wondered whether we were the only species to inhabit the universe, Ickapoo felt estranged and isolated from the rest of the cosmos.  Join Ickapoo on his escapades across galaxies and worlds in search of company.
Ickapoo the lonely Alien, 2046 is created by Chung Chin-Yi , an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author

III. Maya's Favor for Secrecy 

In weekdays inside the house, it felt like I have all the time in the world during 8 o'clock until 12. But of course, it was an exaggeration; for me, it just felt like it. In abstract sense, time feels forever — like an extended period beyond numbers — whenever I find myself alone in our abode. Hypothetically, I believe I could commit serious crimes (be it robbery, identify theft, or murder), without bothering to worry about anyone sniffing my back. That is, in specificity, what I meant by having all the time in world. Since during those hours, exactly four, I was all by myself with my wandering thoughts— thinking of the things I could do, but would never really do. 

Yesterday was Thursday, so the day today remained a weekday. Friday. 

Considering my age, in addition of my three-year old retirement, personally I didn't have to worry much about commitments. My obligations had short-lengthened; the people I often communicated with before had decreased into almost zero, and for this reason I got plenty of time pondering the past, my old memories. I was at the point where, dutifully and financially speaking, I could slack off and I wouldn't miss a thing. Retired. 

Why was I alone? Why, of course it was a weekday, and during weekday mornings I usually am. Simply because, first of all, my wife and daughter themselves had tasks to do in the community. Unlike me, who kind of let go of most obligations already involving jobs, clients, strangers and acquaintances, my family had a pattern to follow. 

Kiki, as an elementary student, had to attend school. My daughter was at the point of her life where she explores the elements found and seen on the social aspect. She had to meet new people her age. Know them. Befriend them even, and make memories with them that'd be reminisced in the future. At school, academically, Kiki had been told by her mother to participate in class recitations; to answer correctly the questions on quizzes, on exams; to take down notes the chalk-written words from the blackboard; and later — after everything — to meet me in the school's gateway so I could pick her up, and return her home. 

On the other hand, my wife, Annalise, as an architect under a well-known firm, had to take bus and jeepney and tricycle towards her job. Comparing to Kiki, Annalise was at the point of her life where she already realized the functions of the social— how to ethically act around people; how to be reasonable with them alike. Perhaps because of her busyness at most times, I think she was trying to figure out where she belonged To generativity, or to stagnation? Serving as Senior Architect, it's given she had to communicate with her co-workers, her boss, her inferiors, and their clients altogether. In spite of all the effort, of the labor she puts in for the quality of the firm, afterwork she'd commute back home with a take-out meal for us to consume. Meaning, at the end of the day we remained a family — always a complete one — eating at the dining table together, with our morning and afternoon stories. 

So far, those were our daily routines. As a family of three. 

I, however, had the most alone time among the three. Unlike years ago when I was still an employee, a manager, what I do now every morning don't actually stay the same. I could be watching the television for four hours straight on Mondays, and take an unbent shower on Tuesdays and Fridays. Yes, sometimes I'd just watch shows until it's time to pick my daughter from school at 12:30 o'clock. Other times, I'd read whatever books or magazines I could find in the bookshelf. And other, other times I'd feel so creative I could write something personal, or something mind-blowing on a piece of paper. 

For instance, this Friday I wrote an indigenous type of Filipino poem called tanaga. I began working on it at 9:30 in the morning, and later finished the piece by 11 PM. No need to mention it took me longer to finish than expected. 

As a matter of fact, at first I couldn't think of anything to write about. I knew I had to write, I just didn't know what subject should I emphasize. My mind was blank. Worse than blank and empty, my mind was in decline. Despite the fact that I was on my favorite spot — sitting on the moving chair, on the balcony — I couldn't write. For half an hour I felt wordless and incapable of writing a single passage with meaning. It was that hard and bleeding. Perhaps, if I'd exclude the sun's heat haze, the beauty of nature in front of me might be the main cause of this distraction: the numerous moving clouds, the little waves crashing on the far seashore's edges, and the lenient wind passing by my face. All distracting, but at the same time calming. 

It was hard to write. 

Even so, at 11 o'clock, here went my piece of tanaga: 



Liwanag
'Sang ilaw na kay hirap
Limutin't usisain—
Sa aking bawat padyak,
Siya ang tanging mithiin.



Once finished I read it over, and over again. Though I myself admitted that I'm not a good poet, I believe this poem is something value-embedded. True enough, sometimes I'd just scribble words on a notebook or any paper I could find laying here. I could write thousands of words, fill hundreds of pages, create tens of short stories, and still disregard myself as a good writer. In practice, I'm not as witty as William Shakespeare; especially, not as psychologically in-depth as Fyodor Dostoevsky. Moreover, I'm not a great poet as Robert Frost who wrote one of my favorite poems, The Road Not Taken. But nevertheless, whether a writer considers himself outstanding or awfully inferior, as a whole, personally, writing is one of the best ways to open up your heart and keep the time passing. 

Today, somehow, I found my short piece of poem in between downcast and euphoric. 

To anyone, perhaps to most people, who would gain a chance to read my poem, they might see this piece of tanaga as average. Nothing but a standard Filipino poem following a certain requirement: seven syllabic rhymes, all packed in four lines, and nothing new to it. 

But be that as it may, whatever people would think of this can't change the fact of how it affected my sentiment and sensibility. That as I read it again, and again, to me it seemed like I found something accidental yet worth the search in the abyss of my existence— something hiding deeply inside me, buried dozens of meters deep in the ground. Almost forgotten. 

By then it came to surface, of which this poem I wrote is bag and baggage about a certain friend. My old, lady friend whom I had been thinking about, in truth, for a couple of weeks straight at present. Been kind of a long time since I told my daughter the Midnight Carnival story; been weeks since I promised to buy her a new video game cartridge, that one afternoon, in exchange for her ears and attention. 

Ever since that day, Maya never left my thoughts for a moment long-interval. In my everyday life, in my aloneness, she stood appearing as a spirit walking in the depths of my longing. She remained here within the hardness of my skull, that even in dreams I sometimes I see her and re-experience a bygone time. Probably, twice in a single week. 

All in all. 

Notwithstanding, tomorrow I'd finally fulfill my promise to my daughter. And it took long, I know, only well because after a month or two, the three of us agreed again to go to the supermall, as a family. Wherein fact I seemed not to recall our last hangout there, so there lingered a feeling in ourselves that we had to create new memories. Thankfully, yesterday night we decided to plan eating at my wife's favorite restaurant once more. To walk, to shop, and to hangout in the supermall— ultimately, to buy Kiki a new cartridge in the Game Station. 

Tomorrow, only even for a little while, we'd have the time to run away from our daily lives. Saturday. Just the three of us. 

Returning to the present, as I waited for the clock to hit 12 PM, I spent my remaining half-an-hour by looking at the heavenly sceneries ahead. I watched the clouds, the little waves, the flocks of birds soaring through air. I watched everything I could see. 

However, I noticed the view from the moving chair didn't give me enough contentment. I felt the need for more. And so, to satisfy myself, I had to make my sight of the landscape even wider. I stood from the chair where I usually sat — leaving the notebook containing my piece of poem there — and stepped forward to the balcony's line of edge. I decided to place my elbows on the wooden material, the linear barrier. I raised my chin, I placed vision a little higher, as both of my eyes focused on what the nature could offer. Of what it could present to me as for the moment. 

———

It is what it is.
Literary. Magic Realism.

Professor Xavier sighed and watched Robert walk off into the woods surrounding the mansion. He looked towards Emma who was longing to go after Robert. 

"Ms. Frost would you be so kind as to remove Mr. Marko's helmet." Xavier asked. Emma nodded and quickly went to work trying to remove his helmet and was soon joined by a recovered Logan. 

After removing the helmet, Emma gasped in horror and Logan narrowed his eyes. "Frost take Ororo inside and stay with her." Logan ordered her. Not sensing her moving, he shoved her away blocking her view from the fallen body. 

"Go. Now." Logan growled out. 

Emma quickly moved and took Storm inside to an empty room. Professor Xavier wheeled up next to Logan overlooking his half-brothers body. 

Getting a clearer picture, Xavier saw the damage Robert did to the Juggernaut. Cain's face had swollen up and turned purple with blood shot eyes and bits of frost around his head. 

Xavier shuddered with fear at what would have happened if Emma hadn't brought back Robert. 

"He dead?" Logan asked. 

"...No," Professor Xavier said carefully, "I am sensing faint brain activity. Cain's mutation made him nigh unkillable, but this..." Xavier looked at his half brother's condition with some concern, "This injury will take some time to heal." 

"Kid gave him a literal brain freeze." Logan pointed out. 

"I believe young Robert was doing it subconsciously." Xavier tried to reason. "I know he has a good heart, but his mind is split." 

"I'll keep a closer eye." Logan offered. "I'll try to keep him busy and whatnot." 

Logan sniffed the air and looked towards the distance. "Tell them to come pick up this trash." Logan said and walked away. 

Xavier sighed and held a hand to his head, sending a telepathic message to those just outside his mansion's property. 

Moments later two black vans and an armored truck came along with a squad of black outfitted soldiers, all of whom had the same logo of an eagle on the vehicle or person. 

Soon the squad of agents started to load the unconscious body of Cain Marko onto a heavily protected truck, while an average looking man who was wearing a formal suit walked towards Xavier. 

"Professor Charles Xavier, my name is Agent Coulson." Agent Coulson greeted. 

"Yes, greetings Phil." Agent Coulson shifted uncomfortably after the usage of his first name, but carried on. 

"Yes, well we will be taking Cain Marko off of your hands. And we would like to express our thanks in capturing him." Professor Xavier smiled and received the thanks, returning a similar gesture. 

After loading the Juggernaut's body, Agent Coulson said his goodbyes and quickly left with his retrieval team.

---------------- 
In the woods... 

I held my head as I walked slowly through the woods next to the X-Men Mansion. Blurry images of red eyes and faint demonic laughter rang in my head. 

As the laughter kept getting louder and louder, I gripped my head in pain, forcing me down to my knees and pushing my head into the hard dirt. 

"AHHHHH!!!!" I screamed.

"GET OUT....OF MY....HEAD!!" I let lose a burst of power, completely freezing everything around me in a 20 foot radius. 

After the outburst everything became quiet. I let out a sigh of relief and sit back on a frozen tree, basking in the silence. 

"Hello Robert..." My eyes flew open as I quickly got up and turned into my ice form, coming face to face with....me? 

The other figure in front of me was completely different, he had blue skin with tribal marks on his face and nearly naked body. His bright red eyes locked with my icy blue. And his feral grin opposing my worrying frown. 

"Who are you?" I asked. 

His smile grew wider at my question, "I am YOU." 

My eyes narrowed and I completely relaxed, dropping out of my ice form returning to my caucasian skin. "A hallucination...great." I whooped sarcastically. 

My hallucination stepped forward and knocked the wind out of me with a powerful punch to the gut, sending me flying onto a frozen tree 10 feet away. "Did that feel like a hallucination to you?" He asked snidely. 

"W-what are you?" I croaked out, sitting on ground and holding my stomach. 

He walked forward with confidence and crouched down to meet me at eye level. "I already told you didn't I? I am YOU." 

He waited for me to process the situation, "An Ice Clone?" I asked myself. 

"BINGO!" My clone snapped his fingers and jumped into the air celebrating. "Arghh!!! Man did you feel that rush of excitement while fighting that guy!" He shouted excitedly. 

"Wait." I said still trying to process this situation. "How are you...like...sentient?" I asked carefully. 

He stopped celebrating and looked at me with hunger, "During our little outburst of power..." gesturing towards the ice field, "You, specifically, conveyed the emotion and intent of getting me out. Which our powers responded to, creating our first Ice Clone...ME!" he said excitedly. 

I watched as my fully realized Ice Clone was talking animatedly and muttering odd things from time to time, I sit back to just let the whole situation sink in once again. 'What the hell?' 

"So, let me get this straight...you are me?" He nodded, "But just another part of my mind and personality?" My Ice Clone created a thumbs up with ice to confirm my theory. 

I sighed deeply, already done with this messed up Marvel Universe. "Alrighty then, how are you?" I asked kindly. 

"Bro, I am great!" He replied excitedly, "I'm on a huge high after we killed the Juggernaut. And-" 

"Whoa back up!" I cut him off, "We didn't kill anybody. Only suffocated him a little." I reminded myself. 

My Ice Clone stopped jumping around and focused on me intensely, "We froze his brain." He corrected me. "Learning all of that knowledge from Doctor K helped us win. And, more importantly, helped us kill." 

He began to lower himself to meet with me eye level. Speaking in a low, deep and slightly demonic voice, "I'm hungry Robb...and Marko was just an appetizer." His body started to emit frosty smoke as his eyes glowed crimson, "And guess what I'm....INSATIABLE!" 

My eyes narrowed and my body started to emit a similar frosty smoke, "No. We are not killing anyone." I said assertively standing up. 

"I don't understand this side of us." He stood back up, "What is your motivation to becoming a hero? You want fame? Money? Women?" He listed out. 

I lowered my head in thought while my Clone kept going. "We have the power to change the world Robb. The power to do anything. Yet, you want to save people? People who discriminate others because they are different from them? People who kill and start wars on greed and stupidity? F*ck everyone! F*ck canon. Let's lookout for ourselves, watch each others back's. What do you say?" He finished holding out a hand to me.

I looked up sharply and my eyes hardened, "No. I want to save the idiots, the liars, and the greedy." I admitted to myself, "Because among those people there are the hurt, the unique, and the lonely. I want to give them a chance...like someone did for us in our past life." I spoke my resolve, "So, no to the killing and no to the rouge life. We are going to be hero's." My Clone had an astonished expression on his face and then relaxed. 

"Don't worry 'we' aren't doing anything together anymore." My clone smiled wide and spread his arms out, "Cause 'I' am FREE baby!" 

"Yea, no." I rejected him and grab his shoulder trying to re-absorb him back into my body. My Ice Clone noticed my intention and threw a left cross connecting his icy fist onto my face. 

Getting caught off guard I get knocked down onto the ground and bounce a couple of meters away. But I was able to complete my Ice Form before hitting the ground reducing the damage. 

Quickly getting back up I look up in surprise. "What the hell man!"  

"I'm not going back!" He said angrily, "I'm just gonna get locked away and tossed at the back of your mind, forgotten forever!" 

We clashed, trading blow for blow, connecting fist with fist. Almost like we were the same person. I jumped back and launched myself with an ice pillar, while my clone does the same. Both right arms cocked back, we collided, fists connecting to each other's face. 

Getting back up we continued our stalemate of a fight, but somehow my Clone was getting the upper hand, hitting harder and recovering faster. 

'Damn!' I cursed internally, 'What is this guy?' I stopped for a second to analyze his body and found that his appearance looks familiar. 

Taking my distracted gaze as a chance, my Clone jumps on me and holds me down. "Hehehehe!" He laughed in my face as I struggled to break his hold. "Looks like I'm the stronger one 'Iceman'." He mocked me. 

Grunting with all my effort to get out, I couldn't break through his superhuman strength. "Who should I kill first, hmm?" He asked me rhetorically, "Maybe Professor Wheels or Doctor K?" He said making suggestions. 

"You can't hurt them." I threatened him, "Emma and Xavier are telepaths. They can control you." 

My Ice Clone looked at me like an idiot, "Are you an idiot? I'm a CLONE made of ICE." He pointed out. "They can't control ice, only we can." My brain nearly exploded at how amazingly correct he was, 'Damn he's good.' 

My clone had a thoughtful expression on his face and smirked lecherously, "Maybe I could start with Emma." My eyes flashed with anger, "Ravishing her sexy little body, her creamy white skin and baby blue eyes. I'll make her beg for mercy as I tak-" 

*Ice Shattering Noise* 

His disgusting monologue was cut off by his head exploding unexpectedly. Beneath his frozen headless body was me, with my mouth wide open after letting out a roar of ice shards shattering his frozen skull.

"Idiot." I muttered. Throwing off his body releasing a huge sigh of relief and let my battered body heal while laying on the frozen ground.

Reincarnated in the Marvel Universe, within the Spider fanfiction, loved that fanfiction

Its a fanfiction of a fanfiction while I read about fanfiction.

Just for fun, Might write more If i get into it.

"Honey you will be late for your first day of school!" A woman said.

"Coming Mom! and It's still early" Robert said while grabbing his bag and going to the kitchen.

"Good morning" Robert said while grabbing a toast bread and drinking a glass of chocolate milk. 

"Goodmorning Robert, Ready for your first day of school" Robert's mom said with a smile.

"Yep" Robert said and waves goodbye at his mom and his sister.

"Bye" His mom and his sister said.

Robert exits the house and started walking. "The school is about 30 mins walk and it's still 5:55AM plenty of time."

"Hey wait for me!" a familiar girl voice said. He turns around and he see Zapphire.

"Good morning Robert" Zapphire said with a joyful tone and a smile at her face.

Robert smiled and said "Good morning to you as well Zapphire" 

"I'm so excited this new school year that I did not sleep well last night" Zapphire said enlarging her eyes.

"Creepy!" He said to his mind while laughing nervously.

"So Robert quick question. Have you remember anything about your past? sorry to ruin the joyful morning" Zapphire said looking at Robert.

"Well as always everything is blank. Why can't I remember?" Robert said change his mood form happy to confuse.

"Sorry to bring it up" Zapphire said patting Robert's shoulder.

"No it's fine I'm use to it" Robert replied.

"Hey! is that Dave" Zapphire said pointing to a large student across the street.

Hey your right. Why is dave here? His house is near the school, he should be at the school right now. Robert said while crossing the street.

"Let's go talk to him" grabbing Robert's hand and starts running towards dave.

"Sure" trying to keep up at Zapphire's speed.

"Hey dave!" Zapphire said shouting while running.

Dave holding a waffle turn around to see Zapphire and Robert running toward him.

Then out of nowhere Zapphire accidentally stumble a rock causing her and robert to fall to Dave.

Ouch! Robert said. trying to get up.
"My new shoes" Zapphire said brushing the dirt of her new sparkling shoes.
"My waffle" Dave said looking at the waffle at the floor.

the three gets up and Zapphire said sorry.

"No it's alright just remember, If this ever happen again your so buying me a waffle."

"He he sure sure. we should probably head straight to school." 

"Agreed" Robert said nodding.

After a few minute they reach the school.

"Looks like were all classmates again" Dave said while playing with his rubix cube.

"I know right I always want to have you guys around" Zapphire said hugging both.

"I'm just glad we have each other" Robert said checking the time.

Robert felt a poke in his back and check who is poking him. He saw Gus and Flash.

"Dang right cause all of you are a bunce of nerds and losers" Flash said pushing all of them at the floor.

"Well at least were not monsters like you guys" Zapphire said. calling the school guard. Gus and Flash left with a look like (we will be back to crush you) face.

"Why do well always get bullied?" Dave said grabbing his rubix cube on the floor.

"I know right. Come on were are not nerd nor losers were winners" Zapphire said irritated.

"Yeah" Robert said.

Bell rings and the 3 headed to their classroom. they waited for the teacher to arrived but they got bored so they do what they usual do.

Zapphire started writing a new poem. Dave started to play with his rubix cube with only one hand and Robert started drawing a robot at his sketch book.

￼

After a while he finish the drawing and the teacher still nowhere to be seen. Zapphire finish her poem and Dave recorded every fastest time solving a rubix cube. then they notice that all of their classmate are looking at them.

Zapphire whispered " Why are they staring at us?" "I don't know" the boys replied quietly. They realize that their someone behind them. they all slowly turn around to see a lady wearing a teacher's uniform.

Zapphire wave hello nervously and said "Hello Miss Rodrigues." the boys wave as well smiling while shaking.

All of them said in their mind.

We are so dead!

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