In the wake of hard labour, exhaustion creeps,
Like shadows at dusk, where the tired heart weeps.
Profligacy whispers in the wind’s sharp song,
And even the strongest bow can break before long.
Twigs scatter the path where we’ve wandered astray,
The journey begins with each step that we sway.
Even the hardest of roads has its start,
A flicker of hope in the depths of the heart.
Every lie’s a mirror, reflecting a truth,
Yet truth wears a mask, it’s aloof in its ruth.
The greatest care cradles an existential ache,
While hope stitches wounds that eternity makes.
Feelings, those heartless, can dance in the dark,
Trust is a trickster, leaving its mark.
Before every step, there’s a pause in the air,
The hardest step waits, heavy with care.
Standing still is the first leap we take,
A moment of silence, a breath we must make.
What the kind lack in sharpness, the smart miss in grace,
Both are a puzzle, a curious chase.
Those who are wise and those who are sweet,
Are often the jesters in life’s grand old seat.
The happy, out of tune, with their grief in a box,
A lost soul finds solace where the door never locks.
Every child, in her laughter, carries a sigh,
Regretting the innocence that learned how to fly.
What’s just ahead is a whisper from past,
The essence of now, like a shadow, is cast.
Politics dance without history’s song,
Reality’s veil can feel so damn wrong.
The thing itself is not hidden away,
It’s the disguise we wear, in the light of the day.
Grief, that old tonic, can soothe despair’s bite,
A reminder that darkness gives way to the light.
So here we stand, with our burdens and dreams,
In the chaos of living, we unravel our seams.
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