Conscience Poem by Eric Mwenda

Turbulence of time
freezes in space
and we,
become the suspended,
not in the past
not in the future
but in present, past and future

the stings are now stingy,
whispers from pandora box
creeps on us,
in its face we tremble
like scarecrows in the wind

we shroud our eyes
and turn the other way;
trying to explain the past
trying to justify our actions
and hoping... hoping
hoping that we convince ourselfs too

turbulence of time
freezes in space
when conscience ticks to play
and only
only the strong in faith
can break away from it all