Ányá Ánw - LetterPile - Writing and Literature
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Ányá Ánw

ny-nw

You're my sunrise on my darkest day
Hope you know it's related when I call you morning star
The eyes of my sun shine and god ( Ányá Ánw )
With you by my side the sun never seizes to smile at me.

It's not a metaphor, I'm not trying to personify
Your personality is worth a phantom crown
I lack understanding each time I try to imitate your level of understanding
You taught me life with just a sentence.

You rarely sat me down for advices
But that never added a vice to my life choices
The Solomon in you is what held me down for years
I can't ask for more, In you I meet god.

You're a part of my glory and achievements
Your sacrifices towards me rain tears beneath my heart
My heart is positioned upon the surface of your wounded love
What would I have done without your company?

My demons are conquered once your presence is felt
You strive through difficulties to see me stand amidst my peer
The bound we share is beyond me, I sense your feeling from a distance.

I never knew love till I saw the definition in you
I'm an addict of your smile
I'll work my life out to see your face smiling
It's a privilege that I'm your son.

You're indeed a treasure to me
I'll protect you with all cost
I'll make the world jealous for not having you
My pride, that's what you're.

Words alone can't endeavour to express what I have for you
I can't look pass your dieing love for me
Those days when hunger striked
And I had to feed on your sacred tears and hope for a better meal.

Nothing can separate the plage of dignity I uphold for you
Not life, not death.
I owe you everything, beneath and above the earth
I'll preach you to the world.

Your ability to sustain and manage life difficulties despite having a wounded hope is a case study
You need to be taught bout
You're a blessing, a rare one
No human can replace you in my world.

I pray you don't go missing when I'd be made to spend on you.
And when your fight is over
I'll make a museum outta your tomb
The coming generation will be needing a piece of whatever that is left of you.

You're my culture.
Thank you for making me dwell in your tradition.

© 2019 Christopher Ndulue