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In Literature, Writing and Blogging 1 min read
The Song Of My Native
<p>It been a while that I hold my pen to jot my thought.</p><p>‎Nubia's song draws me out with the melody of his voice into the land of my native.</p><p>‎into the land of my African ancestors,</p><p>‎I long to smell the sweet sweat of the savannah dwellers, dancing graceful around the yellow flaming flower.</p><p>‎</p><p>‎</p><p>‎Beautiful draws me by the weight of his lyrics.</p><p>‎I hum, hum, hum his tone and it teleport me to the far end of the years.</p><p>‎Where my ancestors gather at the midst of there pride in the land.</p><p>‎My native in ancient calls to me.</p><p>‎</p><p>‎</p><p>‎The answer to the plea of the ancestors; one and another that will carry the beauty in tradition and melody in chant.</p><p>‎I was called, here but at the far end; one that will carry there flag high in sky for the world to see.</p><p>‎</p><p>‎</p><p>‎But I have a beloved already and he has captured my heart.</p><p>‎Yet my forefather calling me are never tired never weak.</p><p>‎</p><p>‎</p><p>‎With it all, I took my beloved and show him to my ancestors.</p><p>‎Gladly they accept my light but beg that I should not let go of our right.</p><p>‎</p><p>‎</p><p>‎I'm an African boy, also Jesus boy.</p><p>‎My last statement to them.</p>

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Tip me let me pay our ancestors ☺️
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