Red as sunset;

Soft as snow;

Flashing like stars;

Bright as the sun;

Tumbling past a forest of leaves;

But without leaving a trace.


As it hits the aromatic dark soil;

That cushion it against hard landing;

We get a reminder about Africa;

About the selfless generosity of the afro-soul;

Beauty personified.


Fallen from the beautiful blue skies;

With intermitted creations by the lingering clouds;

Once again reminding us of the master artist;

Who always seem to paint masterpieces on the skies and our horizons every day;

A far cry from legends who wait eternity to get the perfect shot.


Fallen from the protection of the bushes, taller trees, strong branches and dense leaves;

It falls to the uncaring ground;

With rodents and worms waiting to feed on its smiling flash;

Falling to the wide open mouths of the hyenas;

It fate is already sealed;

I know, actually, was told, falling is not nice;

But this is hell.


2 Responses to “Fallen”
  1. elbrigaking says:

    wonderful poem! This is great!

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