Our Damaged Paradise

The scars of our memories still haunt me,
Turns my song into ashes.
If only they would grow wings and drift off,
For my heart burns like hell to see you hurt because of me.

Olami.
See the music my heart paints,
Our memories a canvas of the damaged paradise.
Who will undo these frightful errors?

Morenife.
I wish I could own the name for you,
I want to whisper it into your soul as you sleep,
And chant it to your heart when the day breaks.

Eriife.
So you were the evidence that my heart is not barren,
That a rose could bloom in a desert.
But why has fate wrong me thus?

This is tragic.
All my hopes are like the fantasies of a four-year old.
Building pyramids in the sea.

You are no more than the wishes in my head.
No more than the whispers from the butter-flies in my heart.
No more than the fault in my actions,
No more than the stigma, I would have to hide till the giant bell tolls
and even beyond...


Non English words
Olami
Morenife
Eriife
(They are all Yoruba names)