Basoga

In the quiet of his solitude, Basoga stood,

A man with memories carved in the marrow of his being.

Some days, the pain, an unwelcome guest,

Creeping through the corridors of time,

Its weight heavier than the day it was bestowed.

Echoes of yesteryears, etched in the lines on his face,

A tale told not in words but in the shadows of his gaze.

He once thought healing would be the salve,

Yet, some wounds fester with the passage of days.

As sunlight danced on the river's gentle flow,

Basoga realized, in moments quiet and slow,

The ache within, more profound than the initial blow.

The past, a relentless phantom, haunting the now,

A ghostly companion, an unbroken vow.

Yet, in the depth of despair, a flicker of strength,

For even in darkness, there lies a resilience at length.

Basoga embraced the truth with a sigh,

Some days, the pain, a relentless sky.

But within him, a spirit resilient and wise,

Finding solace in the tears he'd rise.