ANNOUNCEMENT: CALL FOR SUBMISSION

STARINSCRIPTIONS is currently accepting poems, short stories and essays from young writers between the ages of 8 and 18 for it's "Young Writers Column" solely dedicated to publishing the works of young writers. The goal is to encourage and to help them grow.

NOTE

1. Your work must be original and captivating. No plagiarism.

2. All submissions must be written in English.

3. The writer retains Copyright of every work submitted.

4. Submission is not an automatic acceptance, if need be work(s) may be returned to the author for modifications.

5. Multiple submission is allowed.

6. Along with your submission, add a brief bio and a phone contact

To be a part of this, submit your work(s) to starxnotes@gmail.com. We would definitely be glad to read and publish your work.

Remember creative minds don’t sleep. Get busy. Let your creative pen bleed...

Comments

SOMEBODY CALL HIM EBUBE DIKE By Femi Ajide (Song and Lyrics)

Femi Ajide has been in professional music for about fifteen (15) years now. He started his music career in the junior choir at the age of six. He is a former music director in Living Faith Church, Goshen, Abuja (Winners Chapel National Headquarters) and still minsters in the Choir. Through his Music Ministry many lives are being blessed.
His debut album has Nine(9) tracks of inspirational songs.
Listen, download and enjoy

https://my.notjustok.com/track/294833/femi-ajide-ebube-dike#.W0pGGCTpK9c.whatsapp
http://www.engagegospel.com/2018/07/femi-ajide-officially-releases-popular.html?m=1
https://youtu.be/zZ_SOY7gvMM

SOMEBODY CALL HIM EBUBE DIKE LYRICS
Shout Halle le le le luyah/2x Somebody call him ebubedike Jehovah Jireh ebubedike, Ha a e e Jehovah ebubedike, Somebody call him ebubedike Jehovah Nissi ebubedike, Ha a e e Jehovah ebubedike. somebody call him, ebubedike/2x
In the morning when I wake, I will lift my voice in praise, To the glory of his name, For the things He's done for me ye ye…

ABUSED - ‘SAYING SOCIETY’

ABUSED - ‘SAYING SOCIETY’ So loud So loud she shouted Shouting for help Every other night She is shouting I can hear her now He is hitting her again She's been hit, beat and battered Wounded inside out Lost her glow Lost herself-worth Lost her confidence Lost her smile All for what the society would say
She is grinding She is grieving She is dying Because the society won't listen to her No one wants to hear her own side of the story No one cares how she feels She has been told to stay there and fight for her home She has been admonished to stay and pray some more She has been told everything will be alright But for how long For how long She has been caged by what the society says
This 'saying society'

THE INK

The ink The ink that flows Flows through the mind to the fingers Penning down the thoughts it brings Penning down the imaginations it creates Penning down the pictures it paints It flows as the fingers stroke the pad It flows as it listens to self It flow when it shuts out clatters Penning things down to be viewed and considered
This ink has the greatest capacity This ink is efficient This ink is powerful It has the power to imagine anything and everything is possible The power to imagine that there are no limitations anywhere The power to imagine that ‘cannot’ is vague The power to imagine that ‘never’ is void

This ink likes to explore This ink likes to paint The capacity of this ink is still beyond comprehension Can go as long as it can be stretched Flows as long as it is in use Dries up the day it is no longer needed
All Rights Reserved © Stella C. Obokoh 2018

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