Sitting by the sloshing river as the day sleeps.
Gazing at the puzzling stars as the sky weeps.
I’m cold, perplexed, knowing not what the future holds.
I’m sick, dejected, unsure of how the present fold.
Oh thou troubled soul! What issue art thee?
The future shall meet the present, why can’t thou see?
Let good be punished and evil walk free.
But I tell thee, to the oppressor, thou shall not plea.
Thou shall rise up. Thou shall be strong.
For to the race of indestructible thou belong.
Spine on thy hips. Head on thy shoulders.
Thou shall roar fearlessly like a thunder.
Behold the inevitable coming thy way:
Hardships and anxiety. But thou shall not stray.
Behold the glad tidings waiting for thee.
But this bridge of pain thou shall cross to walk free.
Oh thou troubled soul, ponder upon the rivers
And upon the heavens above and their wonders.
Thou shall roam free. Thou shall fly high.
And thou shall rejoice and smile with a sigh.
~ A. R. Raazol