Wednesday, 8 March 2017

Áyànfé Mi

My love, what have we become
What love do your heart now each
By the lovelessness of your acts
Do you tire of me?

And need no more of my love
Have we been all this while, two lovers
And now you love me less than a lover

The music in my heart
Or the dirge you now call
The song bird of my soul
Or like parrots to your ear
Like a sweet mirth of paradise
Or the deserts of hell
What am I now in your eyes?

Am I the love you professed
Or the receiver of your new hate
What do your lips confess?
Do it your love for me, say
Or remember no more of my face

Áyànfé mì
My joy
In all our journey
You were to me than money
They say that nothing money cannot buy

But for your smile, I will yield the world
For your love, I will defile impossibilities
For your face, I will derail from all trace
Held in the pockets of your bliss, I will give my life
For you are my beck, my substance
That without is no substitute ever made sweeter
For your love is mine and that one thing I will never let go
For you to me are everything

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