My Predicaments Poem by Nicole Charuma

In every twist and turn,
troubles lurk and croon,
I glimpse a world ablaze,
like an infernal tune,
Tears and sorrows,
they waltz under the moon's silver spoon.

I labor and toil, yet reap ripe fruits of despair,
The sun, a ruthless jest, with fiery flair,
My prayers echo like whispers lost in thin air,
As if a wicked specter wishes my soul to tear.

But still, I cling to hope, for God's plans in His care,
He's the Shepherd, the cosmic conductor, playing rare,
In His glory, I'll take my seat, a soul laid bare,
For in His grace, I find solace, my burdens I share

in the shadows, where my heart's fears festoon,
Amid the tempest, I shall face my cocoon,
And from this chrysalis, a renewed spirit will soon be strewn.