The Call Of A Sad Writer Poem by Okenyi Sunday Chinweike

In the depths of a troubled mind,
He sits in silence within a dark room,
Where the whistling wind cascades,
Whispering and urging for release.

It longs to unleash its might upon his thoughts,
Where life takes shape and forms its arrows.
His mind remains lost in its own world,
Descending into the depths of profound despair.

Like the stretching of a harsh winter,
Life's torrential rain saturates his emotions.
As he wanders through the fragility of existence,
He trembles, and tears stream down his face.

With a trembling hand, he reaches out,
Resting it upon a desk, seeking solace.
From the depths of his heart to the blank paper,
His words flow, carrying his troubled mind afar.

So life may bear witness to his innermost thoughts,
Revealing itself when eyes can see,
And minds can read and feel the profound depths
Of what he experiences within his soul.