Tired limbs
As life’s mountains climb
Roaring voices
Penetrating through the dark hollows of the brains with diverse choices
How does one choose the right
And make life bright?
And why does faith sits in the unseen hole
Shivering not to be whole
For my touch when need be?
Is faith a she or a he?
Pushing on
Just latching on
Life’s jungle and being haunted
By ghostly troubles and taunted
By eyes unseen and voices unheard
May twist my head
But life must surely present me, at the end of this game, a comfortable bed.
Mum Cee 