The Vexed Soul
On Wrestling with the Meaning of Existence
By Douglas Kwizera BagumaPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read
Photo by Paul Melki on Unsplash
Through thorny toil, his strength he spends,
Yet harvest wanes, the labor bends.
The fields, unkind, his hopes betray,
Like fleeting mist at break of day,
A vexèd heart that fate contends.
Perchance the worth lies not in prize,
But in the fire where mettle tries.
Each scar, a tale, each step, a song,
Through tempests vast, he journeys long—
A soul unyielding 'neath the skies.
About the Creator
Douglas Kwizera Baguma
Educator and aware of the impact of story telling to the evolution of the human mind, shaping of society, erecting empires, exerting superiority among others. Here to deeply dive into the fabric of human experiences with ink.
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