Isaac Tsoho | + Follow Poet |
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I RAN

I ran not bound by fear’s relentless chain,  
Nor stirred by chase’s sharp, alluring strain.  
I ran not from some silent, urgent plea,  
Nor from the depths where ravened tempests be.  

I ran not for the flight of fleeting throngs,  
Nor for the dreams that night’s soft veil prolongs.  
I ran not burdened by the past’s cold hand,  
Nor tethered to a purpose sternly planned.  

I ran not for a gleam of golden light,  
Nor for ideals that blaze the soul’s own night.  
I ran not from desire’s consuming fire,  
Nor for applause, nor transient praise’s pyre.  

I ran not to ascend a haughty throne,  
Nor seek the laurel wreath to claim alone.  
I ran not to bewilder or impress,  
But simply moved — like skylarks in their dress.  

Across the arid sweep where sands unfold,  
Beneath the eagle’s gaze, majestic, bold,  
I ran with wings unseen, yet spirit high,  
A sovereign flight beneath the burning sky.  

Yet from the shadowed cliffs, a raven calls,  
A darkened herald where the twilight falls;  
Its voice, a whisper threading through the air,  
A solemn echo of the wild and bare.  

I ran because within each measured stride  
Awakened something vast, serene, and wide;  
A freedom soaring, swift as falcon’s flight,  
A whispered song that greets the dawn’s first light.  

Like nightingales that sing when shadows fall,  
My heart took wing beyond the boundary’s call.  
I ran to find what nests beyond the known,  
Where wild wings beat and spirits roam alone.

Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025

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