Hold my hand,
Journey with me through this wearisome land,
Don’t cease to speak to me,
As we sojourn across the sea.
You say there’s a door through the night,
You say there’s a place with perpetual light,
These words I believe,
As to hope I cleave.
You say weary hearts don’t see beyond the shadows,
You say I should go beyond the meadows,
Recalcitrant monsters dwell in my room,
I wrestle with adamant gloom.
Oh! Mama, still go with me,
Till darkness eventually flee,
Oh! Mama, don’t yet ease into the night,
I won’t give up in the fight.
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