The Storm Poem by Martins Akhoeneto

In the torment of my fears
This torrential fall hit the coast
Adjoining my little voyage
Sometimes, we see beyond reason
Why the sun rise and set in varying zones
Why problems, travails befriends us
Not one but the rising cataract
And voracious steer of prevailing winds
Interpreting blur images from distant shores
As we sail through hamlets of eastern creeks
Mirages and rage the storm shares
The engraved statue of faith, built
In our hearts be my counselor, my tormentor
But at the end of my crafty boat
I lean with back-aches, coming from aging pain
Now that am closer to death, than life.