"Storms"

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"Storms"


When pain hits like a thunderbolt 

Where do men run for cover?

Where do grieving souls find succour?


Many words were said to God

Many words are now said by men

Few retorts 

Many silence 

And darkness 


Then the mourner walks silently, sullenly, and unsure

Not knowing what each path will yield 

But wishing any could end his grief.


Life's a cracked palm kernel

Offered by the gods

You can never tell which will be bitter 

And when it will be.


Death is like a sudden darkness 

That envelopes joy in mid-day 

And deepens the pain of the suffering.


Where do grieving souls go

when death removes the thatched roof over their heads? 

Comments

  1. Anonymous6 March 2026 at 13:01

    Very inspiring and filled with in-depth meaning
    More grace to write sir

    ReplyDelete

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