Imperfect Design

In the silence of Okwani's days,  

Memories whisper, tangled in a haze.  

His wife's deceit, a ghostly tether,  

Haunts each step, no respite, no feather.

A heart once brimming, now echoes hollow,  

Torn by betrayal, a relentless sorrow.  

The past, an anchor, refuses to relent,  

Its weight, a burden, never to augment.

In quiet moments, he's left to reflect,  

On love's shattered fragments, dreams unchecked.  

His gaze fixed backward, in pained refrain,  

He grapples with letting go, releasing the chain.

Yet within, a flicker, a flame's faint glow,  

A whisper of strength, a will to grow.  

Okwani, a soul, worn but not broken,  

Seeks solace in truths yet unspoken.  

For time's gentle touch, a balm to soothe,  

May heal the wounds, those memories imbue.  

As dawn awakens, hope's subtle gleam,  

Guides Okwani's heart to mend, to redeem.