Sunday, 17 March 2019

Starting Across in the Dead of Night

At 1.59 a.m, a storm rocks the skies ...

Rain drops incessantly tap my rooftop.
Blankly, I stand staring out into the darkness through my window pen
A moment long yearned for with myself.

The heavens continuously cry,
and lightening cuts through the sky
followed by thunder rumbles that shake the torn sky.

Avoiding occasional relapse into paranoia,
I try to find something to base my life upon,
Yet I am afraid of fading time and years going by.

Facing the reality,
I realize that what used to be “good time” is just but dismay,
And with the hope of a better tomorrow, it just comes and goes

Broken dreams, lost love, failures, criticisms, and depression,
Slam my reflection on the past so hard that I stop thinking about it,
But just cling on my ambition that has kept growing and growing.

The rain’s tapping is fading,
And I realize that the storm’s almost over,
And when dawn breaks, I must start over.

At dawn, yet hours away,
Is the life I want, ticking closer every second.
Anxiously waiting, all I have ever wanted was something to live for; to see the dawn.

I don’t want to be a little person anymore,
I just want to be free -
I don't want to be a little person anymore,
I just want to become what I have fought for -
I just want to be what I want to be!

Sadique Kwatsima

March, 2019

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