Lost in the Depths of Night on Uncertainty
In the stillness of the evening’s embrace,
When whispers of shadows begin a slow chase,
I wander through thoughts, a solitary flight,
As darkness swells deep, my heart takes its height.
Questions swirl gently, a tempest above,
When will I find answers? Where is the love?
The unknown looms heavy, a cloud in my mind,
Its weight like the burdens of the youth left behind.
“How is?” I ponder, tracing each line,
Of a story unwritten, of a future divine.
“How will?” echoes softly, a haunting refrain,
Like a river of dreams washed away by the rain.
Among starlit hopes and the moon’s ghostly glow,
I walk through the alleys where truth tends to flow,
Twisting through politics, poverty’s pain,
I search for a meaning, amidst all the strain.
The world spins in circles, with eyes tightly shut,
As hunger writes tales from the depths of the gut.
Political whispers, like rustling leaves,
Tell of struggles and trials, the heart never leaves.
As an African youth, with eyes open wide,
I witness the storm, yet still choose to ride.
For each sip of despair, I take in its taste,
I spin dreams of triumph, of chances embraced.
Yet dark specters linger in the corners of night,
Beneath the soft glow, the flicker of light.
“How will I rise?” the question persists,
As shadows grow longer, I clench at my fists.
In the quiet of thought, I seek out the stars,
The flickering embers in the face of the scars.
“How will the dawn break?” I ponder with fear,
Each sunrise a promise that I hold so dear.
But I know in my heart, through the thickets of strife,
Lies the pulse of the dreams that can awaken this life.
So I breathe in the night, the stillness around,
As I sift through my memories, in silence profound.
In the complexities woven through moments of doubt,
A flicker of hope whispers softly, “Hang about.”
For each question of ‘when?’ holds a tapestry fine,
A future unfolding, like the stars that align.
So I walk on this path, where darkness must blend,
With echoes of laughter, of voices that mend.
For while lost in my thoughts, in the depths of the night,
I’m sculpted by questions and painted with light.
And perhaps in this maze of uncertainty’s bloom,
I’ll find strength in my story and rise from the gloom.
For the questions I ask are the roots of my soul,
In the vast sea of ‘how,’ it’s the journey that’s whole.
F