In moments of despair and grief,
When hearts are heavy, burdensome to keep,
The pain we feel can seem so deep,
Like an endless, dark, and lonely sleep.
Yet in the midst of this turmoil,
We find a way to write and toil,
Our pens our solace, our hearts uncoil,
As we pour out our souls, a pure, unspoiled oil.
We write of sadness, pain, and fear,
Of brokenness and things we hold dear,
With every word, we shed a tear,
And yet, we find a way to persevere.
For though we may be fragile, it's true,
We're not so easily shattered, it's too,
Our hearts can heal, our spirits renew,
As we find the strength to start anew.
We hide our feelings, wear a mask,
But deep down, we long to bask,
In the warmth of love, a comforting task,
To break free from pain and let go at last.
And so, we write, and we write some more,
Till our hearts are light, and our souls restored,
For pain may come, but it won't endure,
When we find solace in words, so pure.
And when the pain becomes so soothing,
When tears dry up, and the heart stops brooding,
We'll know that we've found a way to keep moving,
And in the end, our souls will keep blooming.
By Otieno Elvis Gikoi
THE ELO’S POETRY
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