Insight of a Kenyan Girl

Sleep evades me,
my heart a caged bird,
beating, thrashing,
straining against the bars of my ribs.
Darkness calls me back,
its voice familiar, almost gentle,
a lullaby for the broken.
I sink into its embrace,
swallowed by the very void
I once commanded.
Was it always a trap?
A cruel game for the lost?
When did I become one of them?

A slow tune weaves through the silence,
soft, sorrowful, aching.
The melody clings to the air
like a ghost that refuses to leave.
Where once stood lush greenery,
now only snow-laden paths remain,
and the wind, bitter and unyielding,
carries whispers of things left unsaid.
A puppet sways in its grasp,
a hollow thing with empty eyes,
dancing to a song it never chose.

The flowers have ceased to bloom,
their colors drained, their scent forgotten.
Time stutters, pauses, falters—
seasons unravel into nothingness.
The wine no longer sings on my tongue,
its warmth lost to the chill inside me.
I reach for the sky,
wings trembling, desperate to fly,
but fate, cruel and patient,
binds me to the ground once more.

Tell me, is there light beyond the dark?
A hand to pull me from the abyss?
Or am I fated to wander these ruins,
a shadow among echoes,
a ghost in a game
I never meant to play?