A noisy silence,

A painfull paralysis

Weigh down the sternum.

One with the wind, one with space.

Blue oceans short of life, dark!

So dark vision only but a dream

Masks of smiles and laughter

Hide a void so deep, echoes of silence can be heard

In the dark on the sunniest of days.

A life without gravity, an endless floating.

Efforts! They hit dead ends.

And the outflowing energy, never coming back.

Connected on the surface and yet in truth dejected.

Attached at the ends, let loose at the sight of the morning star.

Motionless even at the centre of tornadoes.

These thunderous storms only heard within.

 

The winds of the west are now past.

The monsoons will soon be by

Through earthquakes, storms, el Nino you lived.

Low at high tide, Lower at low tide.

You went back to olden days when men gathered to survive.

Only you gather hope,

Too see the moons and stars of tomorrow.

 

Let this ink dry between these lines

And as those eyes run upon these twisted words

Hope shall flow like a river down the African plains,

From the curse that I am, to the perfection you are.

CHASM, a poem by Solomon