Often times do tears drop
Like the blessing of rain
But frankly, it’s not rain
But a message from the soul and a plaintive heart
Which the mouth finds too heavy to outpour
Of times do the soul become so dismal and desolate
Remembering where we hail
Questioning one’s very existence
Of which the answer is nowhere
Often times do the thoughts of the mind run helter skelter
Questioning and wondering;
Why the mud hovel?
Why no good roof over the head?
Why share the same water bodies with animals?
But as it is seen as true that the existence
Is part of an intricate plan
A formation that existed before birth
In time’s will, shall everything unfold
But may we not be too early lifeless
Without changing the story line
Nor leaving our story untold