I looked into the dark moon
Mixed in the colour of tears
I looked into the hot sun
Mixed in the colour of the roaring wind.
I looked into the heart
Mixed in the colour of deception.
Who knows the routine of the moon?
Who can trace the origin of the sun?
Nor knows the hidden thoughts of the heart?
I looked to the moon,
I perceived the burning heat of the sun
Yet, I can�t tell the secret voice of the heart.
Then I looked up,
Shake my head and walk away.
�Nsikak Andrew, 24th September, 2007