In the midst of the storm,
In the rage of the moment,
In the silent wake of unspoken words;

Rhythm of the drum speaks,
But lost in the wave of the moment,
Silently expressing the word of the broken heart;

Wishing for the skies yet got just legs,
Wishing to walk yet got just winds,
When will I find the true essence of myself?
When just the past speaks of its own existence;

I want to fly into the future,
I want to gallantly walk into the present,
I want to dance to the rhythm of the present,

Reaching for the future,
In the middle of the present,
Yet the past keeps calling and pulling back;

Have stayed stronger than what the past expected,
I’ve wiggled to the rhythm of the painful past,
For I am more than the scar left by the past rhythm.

Written by Adegun Wuraola


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