Bad light obscures the truth,
And what lies beneath the surface remains hidden.
Hope, however, continues its relentless journey,
Even as the soul grows weary from dying embers.
Fading light and unachieved goals,
The soul seeks what should be easily accessible.
The road is pebbled,
Winding and undulating.
Twilight casts a shadow over the radiant light,
And darkness burdens the soul.
Pursuit and purpose have yet to bloom in the meadow,
As my mother recounts the tale of a forlorn meadow.
A universe draws close to a distant light,
While the chosen find a path through the stygian night,
A sage speaks of the rise of a new order,
Where bad light will no longer cast a shadow or find a place.
Thompson Emate spends his leisure time on creative writing, particularly poetry and prose. He has a deep love for nature and the arts. He lives in Lagos, Nigeria.