Oh dear sun,
My words fail me now.
As it was taken right out of my mouth,
As i was caught up in this jungle, where i found no justice.
My phrases now are incomplete, as the wind slowly
Brushes through my ashed flesh, takes it along with her to her,
Tell moon not to cry, for i won’t be at her tales tonight.
Tell the cradle to be gentle,for i won’t be there to rock you to sleep
And i hope you find a piece of my cremated heart,on the hands of these tree branches, relaying my story to you.
For it still burns even in the afterlife, with the desire to carry you
In my bodyless arms.
Oh my dear son, and my sun;
Don’t let these words and this world change you,
From becoming the man i would have wanted you to be.
You are a month but three, to know what the world is all about.
But the world knows all about you.
Be a crusader of peace and let justice take its cause.
Be a Man of your word,no matter the cost.
At this juncture is where I’ll farewell you,to the afterlife.

GMP 2017

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