Naashon Kuteesa Biography

Whispers of the Horrible Past Still Cling

A photo, faded, in a frame of gold, 📸
A story that was never fully told.
...

Before the word, before the thought,
A quiet seed within was caught.
It had no name, no shape, no sound,
On barren, unmarked ground.
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Before I learned the 🥰🥰 names of winds,
Or how a borrowed heart depends,
I met a stranger, calm and true,
The one I woke and slept unto.
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Beneath the moon's conspiratorial gaze,
Where secrets bloom in silken night,
A kiss arrives like summer's haze—
A fleeting fire, igniting light.
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In the forge of forgotten storms, I rise,
A crown of thorns reforged in gold—
Not born of kings, but forged in skies
Where tempests carve the soul's bold mold.
...