The Chaos of an uncertain future can describe any future
Because tomorrow is not promised
I have seen lives lost suddenly that have affected me because
They were loved ones and my life was rearranged by loss
Then came the biggest loss of my son
And it caused me to rethink who I am
Because I am no longer the mother of two living sons
And it is infuriating to me to live without my youngest son
I am not angry at him, but the situation
And the certainty that I will never be again who I was before he died
a door opening
excitement gives way to doubt
opportunity
If it’s possible, angel baby
Take me to a green side of planet
Let me hear the ocean wailing
Telling beautiful lies, I’ll share it
Now it’s getting a bit too tough
Bit too anxious, bit too uncertain
I keep sending my words of love
Hope they barely flap that curtain
If it’s possible, let her know
That I play her messages daily
At late night, when it’s time to go
So our time is still saved from fading
But if it’s not possible, then
What would be next, don’t tell
There’s no point to repeat again
What I know myself bit too well.
Another minute passes
Another one is gone
The sun has fully faded
Safe to hide until dawn
An observer of this mess
A passenger on this ride
Backed into the corner
While golden children thrive
When uncertainty invades
Stomach fills with dread
Make amends with myself
Before heartbreak comes again
Self-worth is a fragile egg
As is heart, soul, and mind
Hanging on by a thread
Just trying to stay alive
What if insurgency or killings last longer than necessary
What if none of the government is involved
What if it is through external influence
What if they are bound to occur
What if all Boko Haram actions are not of emissary
What if they are not been dissolved
What if it doesn't to any affluence
What if none turns a cur
What if Bandits never exist
What if more lives got lost through other means
What if the constitution don't address resolution
What if there is no room for punishment
What if Kidnapping persist
What if it can be traced to genes
What if ransom increases elocution
What if it is recognized as an ancient
What if Fulani herdsmen killings continues
What if the farmers succumb
What if the acts bring peaceful night
What if the more thanks the more trouble
What if Oil bunkering stops
What if poverty crumb
What if all Barrels are tight
What if no barrel makes rubble
If all these have been ravaging
Should we all agree
If all these have truly being
Won't it be better we rule by decree?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The mirror holds my face lightly,
but the darkness behind it stirs~
a handprint left years ago,
still pulsing like underground rivers.
I ask the glass who I've become;
it blinks, fogging over
with my breath’s
uncertain answer.
Everyday that passes by, I think...
Oh gawd, Oh My!
Just give up?
Just give in?
Do I just let life...
Just... Win?
For these thoughts...
Or am I just a walking in sin?
How to start anew...
How to just "Begin"?
How to be loved?
How to move forward...
To feel the "reward"?
Is it truly worth it...
Am I worthy of it,
Of... "Love"?
I need...
One now,
Than ever before...
How can I move forward?
Or am I simply, just...
A coward?
In the depths of our being, where thoughts intertwine with uncertain dreams,
there lies an error born from the womb of time, like an echo of origins,
the belief that we exist solely to embrace happiness as a cloak of light,
but as long as we persist in this illusion that dances on the edge of the abyss,
and even allow ourselves to be convinced by optimistic dogmas promising clear skies,
the world appears to us full of contradictions, like a labyrinth of deceptive mirrors,
where the shadows of truth break into distorted and ephemeral reflections,
for in the pursuit of happiness we overlook the depth of cosmic silences,
where each moment of clarity is a gift from the universe whispering secrets,
yet we, thirsty for the absolute, chase illusions like children thirsty for stories,
while life flows like a silent river in the valley of time, without waiting for us,
and thus, we learn to look beyond the thin veil of fleeting expectations,
seeking hidden meanings in every whisper of the wind that blows among the stars,
and in every shadow that dances on the walls of our hearts, longing for peace.
Harsh asymmetrical contour following dislocated noncontextual departure.
Roaming, haphazardly choreographed with precise misaligned determination.
Mindfully staggering indistinguishable purpose, consistently in linear circumnavigation.
A matter of process, a state of perpetual traversal, saves from permanence.
The ad infinitum of specificity is quantum, the superposition allowing consistent continuity while indelibly transposing by observance.
Redundant to its operation, yet necessary in its function.
Leaving spaces unfiled by way of impetus, whilst evidently consiquential.
Paradoxically self referential, pertinently inescapable ever presence.
Life is very uncertain and short
So many plans of life ended in a short time
None of us can ever tell
How our next time will be
Life is really very uncertain
No one knows what will happen
No matter how much we plan
The tide of time can change everything in a moment
One moment everything might seem alright
Next moment suddenly something can change our whole life
Maybe this uncertainty makes life mysterious
No one knows, what tomorrow bring
Whether it's happiness or sadness
One thing for sure do always what seems is right.
There's uncertainty
In the whole waiting, still
We wait for something.
Say you are enough…
Say you will win this…
Say it is possible…
We all rehearsed that when young,
We were told to be optimistic always,
But…
No one explains the feeling of self doubt,
The fears that come with the thought of not making it,
The realization that it will be a bumpy ride.
When I was young,
My dream occupation was to become rich,
‘mama I will buy that big car, I will get you a big house’
Mama I have neither now,
For you or for me,
Thinking about it pierces my soul,
Will I make it?
But time,
Time is a constant reminder that things change,
Mr time, can you work a miracle,
Bring back the ambitious and optimistic me,
They say time heals all wounds,
Let me bid mine
Looking back, while looking forward
Am I really sate to go
Backwards, when I’m going onward
Pacing fast and sometime slow
One road ends, then goes another
Same exactly as the old
Where to go to, moving further
Do I really have a goal
Maybe I’m amnesiac
Partly this explains my doubts
If the memory I lack
Sends me back to same old grounds
How come that I feel uncertain
Within this unconscious drift
Pull down, or pull back the curtain
Either way makes no big diff.
Unhappy is the most horrible
Aging agent in life you don't forget
Reminding always, be a smiling fairy.
I know childhood never come back
You know one thing memories never dies
And time will remind you to recall.
I used to sit in an empty house
I couldn't find the way to exit door
I don't understand who's close and who's stranger.
Tiny and trembling,
the ant on its leaf-raft,
each ripples a new world....
The rush of the current,
and the stillness of the leaf,
are not the same...
The panic of separation,
and that haunting feeling,
of a colony left behind...
The vastness of the river,
and unknown horizons?
And home so distant now....
The quiver of antennae,
sensing unfamiliar scents,
carried on the breeze...
That fleeting security,
six legs gripping tight,
on this fragile green island...
Whatever the journey's end,
uncertainty reigns supreme,
and the weight of insignificance,
may often overwhelm,
in this unplanned adventure...
Survival is also sometimes,
a silent prayer,
that the universe might hear.
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