Lanmou Zansèt

My Ancestors speak to me in a tongue so familiar,and unfathomable.In the vivid wisps of Dreams, they dance.A fluid hieroglyphic dissertation,knowledge passed down through the ages,crafting me, the inheritor.In ethereal moments before the Dawn, they sing.Melodies of love and affection,claiming as their own,refrains declaring me successor.In the rays of the Sun, they play.Resounding the life-rhythm through Light,calling to me with each rising day,leading me to a path lit bright. I