I held on to hope for so long. That one day, things would be different. Life would be. But I’ve realized how much time I wasted. Waiting. Holding on to things, that they’d change. “It begins with you.” They reminded. “Within you.” Others added. And I’ve often believed it. Believed them.
So, forgive me… for giving up the one thing I swore never to. This hope that didn’t move my hills, but watched… as through the years, they turned into mountains. And the fool yet waited. Would the mountains move, or ranges grow? I should have seen the latter coming.
I have fought and lost. Oh, the battles within, and all battles to War Day. And yet, I still dread this spiritual fight. Putting no(ne)-sense to empty shells. In the name of a better day. To come. A day unseen. Unknown… like the secrets untold.
So, no. I’ll not wait anymore. Not for hope. And no. I will definitely not hope anymore. Not for change. I will make it. Like I self-did most other things. Like happiness. And peace. I wish we all did. But you see, most of the lost battles… were fought on uncertain grounds, with imaginary horses, and, I… the footless rider.
Benson Langat is a poet, fiction writer, and freelancer. A dreamer, he realizes a world of possibilities through stories and explores life in poetry. Benie is a dad and lives in Nairobi, Kenya.