Dear soul,

In the depths of sorrow,
my weakened heart wanders,
A vast expanse, where I seek solace,
A cave of residing pain and pools of tears,
Where I continuously sabotage me within.

Its haunting melody, a lullaby to my being,
Where memories interlaced within its decadent realm,
And shadows dance, to its scintillating symphony,
Like fallen petals from fragile blooms, feelings flow in webs,
And emotions surge in endless waves.


And raise violently like the tides in the seas,
Strings of aches form within this vastness,
Strumming woes of mournful wails and tears,
Rays ignite within these fleeting moments like a dream,
And like a nightmare, they scatter into the perilous shores.


Yet, amidst this turmoil, hope rekindled and shone shyly,
Reminding my soul that there still exists a piece of me,
A piece that refused to die or decay,
One who yearns for the emergence of light's embrace,
And patiently awaited calmness to set.


To remind me that healing intertwines,
Like the scars engraved within,
And the ashes of memories flooded at its edges and rims,
Healing remains just like the hope that never dies.


Ìbànújé, a tempest that tests our strength,
Ìbànújé, a cycle of life's impermanent trials,
The one that tortures yet teaches the weak,
How to harness through the winds and storms,
And endeavor the strength and will they lack.
Like a mojo of sacred ties,
Between humanity and its endless travails.


Ìbànújé, the current state of my heart and mind,
The one that had set my soul on its blizzard blaze,
But also strengthened the cords and strings within me,
Like the tale of gold and ore thrown and blasted in hot furnaces,
A parable that speaks the language of earthiness,
Of our dear mother universe,
That within the shallow depths of life,
We can all find our lights.


© hujjah