The sojourn of life
Long forlon like the playgroup kite
Flown at will to and fro in sites
Rough and stocked, yet painful spites.
Joy and mourning
Our irrevocable cross.., yet lost in this journey.
Thick, dark tunnel, Oh! that this cloud turn sunny.
That morning, when? when will you come in?
Why not as rosy as his?
Should these ills be flicks
From Mr. Destiny’s wheels?
Hmm…a bitter-sweat pill?
Deeply interested, …yet appearing bleak.
Killing, this feeling, sick!
Why these thrills?
Why these tricks?
Book? they both read.
Abilities, dexterities? they, both huge.
Yet rosy’s his and ugly his dude’s
Pre-destined for ‘fame’ and ‘doom’?
Fate, still not differing matters,
Despite him trying harder.
What a fate? even faith left him sadder.
Inherited from nature?
Or restrained by nature?
What an emotional torture!
Leaving him no option.
These things appear trickily unfinished.
Yet, in our individual wisdom, You make us look foolish
Your wisdom, too rich
For ours to reach.
We only strive to rise
Your die is long cast
Who are we to ask?
Baba God, its your sole task.
PS: @Tola Odejayi, thank you for inspiring this. This should suit your expectation on my previous post “IS DESTINY REAL”. My little quota on “MR. DESTINY”.