Do You Want Me To Stay?

In shadows cast by memories, Mugo stands,

Before Nasong'o, heart in trembling hands.

"Do you want me to stay?" he softly implores,

A question lingering, echoing through closed doors.

Nasong'o, with a future burgeoning within,

Her gaze, a mix of longing and chagrin.

"I don't know," she whispers, with a tear's soft flow,

"But I don't want you to go."

Their love, a tapestry woven and worn,

Yet echoes of passion, still faintly adorn.

Mugo, a seeker in the night's soft glow,

Asks the question that only time can bestow.

In the womb's quiet embrace, a whisper so small,

The unborn speaks to Nasong'o, a cautionary call.

"Don't fall in love," it softly implores,

A tale of life yet to unfold, as destiny explores.

Tiny fingers form in the depths of the dark,

A silent plea from the unborn, leaving its mark.

"Embrace the journey, but guard your heart,

For love's bittersweet dance, a delicate art."

In the echo of the amniotic sea's gentle flow,

A foetus's wisdom, a seed it seeks to sow.

"Don't be swayed by the enchanting song,

In love's turbulence, one may not stay strong."

Nasong'o, with life burgeoning within,

Listens to the unborn's counsel, a subtle din.

For in the dance of creation, a warning may hover,

"Don't fall in love again," whispers the unborn lover.

In the dance of uncertainty, emotions sway,

A chapter closes, another begins its play.

Mugo and Nasong'o, entwined in fate's ebb and flow,

A question asked, a journey yet to show.

As the belly swells with the promise of life,

The foetus weaves tales, cautioning against strife.

A poetic prelude to the world it will soon meet,

"Don't fall in love," a heartbeat's entreat.