My Blossom Of Peace (An Epic Poem Dedicated To Etamluosym) Poem by Justus Cyril E

In the dawn of red earth and talking drums,
Before the moon learned the language of lovers,
I walked alone—
A warrior carved from storms,
My heart wrapped in iron,
My path known only to dust and destiny.

The elders spoke of battles,
Of kingdoms raised by blood and broken spears,
And I—son of the soil—
Knew only conquest,
Until the day the wind carried your name.

You came first as a whisper,
A maiden by the river's bend,
Where the waters bowed to your reflection
And even the fish forgot to swim.
Your laughter—soft as harmattan dusk—
Turned my sword into silence.

I watched from afar,
A warrior undone by gentleness,
For how does fire embrace the rain
Without losing itself?

Yet fate is a patient drummer.

Again you appeared—
No longer just the maiden of the river,
But a princess of quiet strength,
Crowned not by gold,
But by grace that made kingdoms kneel.

Your eyes held stories older than time,
Stories of waiting,
Of knowing,
Of a love yet to arrive.

And I—
Breaker of shields,
Feared by many—
Became a student of your peace.

You taught me
That strength is not only in the arm that strikes,
But in the heart that forgives.
That a man is not measured by battles won,
But by the home he builds.

So I laid down my weapons
At the feet of your tenderness,
And in that surrender,
I found victory.

Now you are my queen—
Not of a distant throne,
But of this sacred place within me.

You are the calm in my thunder,
The song in my silence,
The blossom that grew
From the cracks of my restless soul.

Where I was war,
You became peace.
Where I was lost,
You became home.

And so today, under the witness of sun and ancestors,
I sing of you—

My maiden,
Who softened the edges of my world.

My princess,
Who carried grace like a crown unseen.

My queen,
Who reigns in the deepest chambers of my being.

My blossom of peace—
In a world of noise and battle,
You are my forever calm.