Baskadia

My grandmother asked;

Can something be from nothing?

I know nothing can be from something.

Why do you say I came from nowhere?

What is your evolution?

But I can't explain existence.

My uncle is a majest and I a nobody;

I was ill of breathe

For many a days.

That is nothing.

His hopes to hear am dead

To use the opportunity to campaign.

With no hope of survival,

My late mother brought hope from no where.

For ten years passed away,

Came broad daylight:

My son, you win not perish.

On his courtesy to me;

My uncle deeper his hand into his pocket,

My hope to receive for the first time

Something from his majesty;

Fished out a clear handkerchief,

Dried the sweat on his face;

And said to me with an empty handshake:

"Blessings!"