Half Of A Yellow Sun...

If the sun refuses to rise, we'd make it rise, clay pots fired in zeal would cool out feets as we climb

I fancied it and thought to make use of it.

I wouldn't know why she didn't write a full poem, maybe she wanted someone else to...

When dawn breaks,Into shattering pieces of a new day

When the cuckoo sound of the cock
Pierces and blesses the beginning of

a new day,a new birth.

We shall hear, our ears shot out
Like a spear

To listen,

For hope,

For strength amidst despair

We'd await the rising of the sun
And if the sun refuses to rise

We'd make it rise, clay pots fired in zeal, they will cool our feets as we in search of the sun.

Together we'd pull it out of it's hiding place

And set it up in the clouds where it belongs

To light our way
And guide our path to a new life.

Inspired By Chimamanda’s Half Of A Yellow Sun

Img Src