Misery Poem by Morakinyo Temiloluwa Bolarinwa

Out, under the cool breeze of Eko evening,
the rain retreating from its worrisome siege,
the sun threatens weakly as it recycles,
the work is done but the war is not.

My thoughts echo the room with passing vehicles,
my mind races with my heart in pity,
the room constricts and chokes my breath,
the out is loud but drowning me.

O what misery befalls me,
the pain of knowledge of doubt of facts,
fuelled to gehena with the elixir of hope,
the fight of self is most tormentous.

Knowledge often confuses than ignorance,
happiness often kills than sobriety,
pain often teaches than pleasure,
so, what's to do having them all.

The work is done but the war is not,
to the standstill of fate my hope is brought,
my thoughts may fight feelings till end,
till tears may win or knees may bend.