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