Life Poem by Ofentse Mercy Hajane

O', wretched soul!
None knows of thy true form,
Or the torments that shape thee like a storm.
Once thou didst believe in a world so bright,
Where hearts were true and full of gentle light.
But alas,
Those days proved too fleeting,
And now,
Thy thoughts are ever repeating:
Nights of overthinking,
Mind drowning in despair,
And in there ever growing pit of hopelessness,
Asking why this pain is unceasing.

Art thou naught but a lump of meat,
A mere option,
When others find themselves in defeat?
Dost thou plague this world with thy darkened mind,
A problem,
Unworthy of love or kind?

In the lone nights,
Thou stand in pew of thine disenchanting life,
From afar the back of thine wretched mind,
Ye heed them,
Silent whispers of what might come to pass,
But will never do.
If thou were to vanish, like a blade through glass,
Would there be one out looking for thee,
Incessantly cry for thee?
Yet, perhaps, such selfless desire is vain,
For who would mourn thy absence, or feel any pain?

But still,
Thou long for love and care,
To know that thy heart is not beyond repair.
Is it too much to wish for,
In this bleak world of ours,
To find a place to belong,
A garden of innocent flowers?

O', cruel fate,
That at times refuses to show mercy,
I have accepted that I am but a pawn in a game so murky.
Still, do not despair, for even the darkest night must end at some point,
And let in the morning light.