Heart thudding, eyes flickering in the moonlight
Beads of perspiration spotting my forehead
As I stay awake keeping vigil over books
As though it were my mother's Onugbu soup
I keep battling with sleep as she slowly
Seduces me, kissing me softly on my eyes;
I am losing this fight
I walk by the broken glass
And I saw visions and saw the person I need to be
These legless critics are trying to teach me how to run
they're like fire, blackening everything above it which it cannot reach
My future I'm trying to preserve
But here I am, in the present
The clouds so gray and gloomy overhead
The wind from my past howling and screaming "****** ******",
but my spirit is close to dead
The fog creeping over breaking visibility of
Where I'm meant to be
Don't judge me for I'm really trying to succeed
Maybe we would be wiser if empty heads growled like empty stomachs
For even the mosquito does not get a slap
On the back, until it goes to work.