Purpose
written by: Andrew Ndambuki
@ndambuki_andrew
Spoken once or twice, does it matter thrice?
Flesh and blood, pain and sweat for a price
It cannot be whispered, cannot be heard
Cannot begin, cannot finish, too hard.
A little here, a little there, a lot more
A race that cannot start, cannot be won
A piercing whistle and a game is born
A trembling pen, a torn scroll, the fall.
What a waste of humanity
A muezzin’s call echoes the distant walls
A clang of bells din the cathedrals,
Another time, another day, not today.
Now, I may begin to understand the seer
But light flickers dimly, the writing’s unclear
The voice a hush, I strain to listen… oh dear
The path is windy and narrow, why do I fear?
Children play noisily in the market square
Traders sell their wares, any change to spare?
The clock chimes, the rooster crows, hair turns grey
Why am I here, Lord? In silence, I pray.
Through the crack, I see beyond my world
I hear the echo of time, eons roll the band
Seems coherent, seems clear, but I need a hand.
Does anyone understand the time and purpose?
It all starts in the beginning.
Spoken once or twice, does it matter thrice?
Andrew Ndambuki
Latest posts by Andrew Ndambuki (see all)
- Purpose - October 5, 2021
- The Red Lights - April 17, 2021
- Lost - October 3, 2020
