The meagre and the bleak.

The vacancy that fills my eyes.

My puny self

never felt so weak.

This hassle bodes well for relief

and relief’s but a figment.

I chased the wind,

and fought the zephyr,

but while my elbow greased

and ‘tude bore a semblance

with the Trojans,

I lost my peace.

Find me a solace,

a place that isn’t.

Find me an idyll,

the dispenser of grace.

Find me my quiet,

Find me my ease.

Find me my pause,

Find me my respite.

                                                                                                              - Tobi Nifesi