Now that I toil like a wanderer
Now that tears of swear is my bitter meal
I have no crown of glory to share.
Now that I wandered like a lost sheep
Now that every breathe looks like an end insight
I have none who dears to share my identity.
Now that defeats seems to be smiling at me
Now that the world seems to smile against me
None I have that seeks to identify with me.
Now that today seems like the end of life
And everything seems like no hope at sight
Tomorrow breathes her surprises
For no one knows tomorrow.
�Nsikak Andrew, 20th August, 2007