I was endowed with a name of profound song,

this melody that lives with the roots of the motherland. 

My parents gave me a legacy to carry through life. 

I love you,

whispers of promise echoed relentlessly. 

Assuring me of a destined greatness, 

an inheritance bound to the syllables that compose my name. 

A unique type of love.

A love that dances upon the lips, 

a symphony eternally etched in memory,

a name that embodies the richness of ethnicity, 

a name that is undeniably smart and beautiful. 

But

beauty is burdened by the specter of

 ugliness. 

Intelligence crawls on the precipice of

 foolishness. 

My name is a chorus 

sung by angels in the halls of existence and

it feels almost too weighty for 

human shoulders.

It threatens to fracture my very essence,

to shatter the delicate vessel that cradles my

 soul. 

I bear this name with reverence, 

an exquisite burden upon my shoulders. 

I tread the path of life with cautious steps; 

scared that a stumble might unleash irreversible beasts,

 transforming this once 

grand epithet

 into an echo of its former self. 

Betwixt the coming and the going, 

greatness and insignificance, 

my name hangs in the air, 

a precious heirloom I cannot release. 

What was once a strong lullaby

 becomes,

when mishandled, 

as valueless as the country it came from.