The Sounds Of A Quiet Mind. Poem by Ronald Tanyaradzwa Mutandi

I've had seeral sleepless nights. But what struck me the most was how this night had me engrossed. Just how all the house lights were on. They ignored my deep desire to sleep. I tried the old trick of counting sheep, but my mind could only take all my flaws into account. Cars were passing by although it was roughly about 12am. Each beep I heard would be synchronized with my flaws. It was as if my mind had analyzed every small aspect of my soul. And although I tried to console myself. My heart was already torn beforehand but had gotten tired and decided it was time to be reborn. But my mind was not ready to be doomed. And that night was when 'the sounds of a quiet mind' were freed. My mind permitted those sounds to roam without any fee. My mind was no longer my rest home but instead, the house that I will dread to go back to at the end of every day. Every night those sounds will grow loud. And I became their prey. And to their voices and cries, I used to bow down to them. My rest home was no longer my paradise. It turns out that everything I saw that was supposedly between the walls of my mind was not realit -