R.C Kelly

Malawi

Straight from the warm heart of Africa

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The Gloaming

April 6, 2020

Perishing day drags with her the Sun’s sole vestige,
Shafts of auburn and amber ebb away
Seizing the last slivers of blissful warmth and glimpses of white doves.
 
Then night comes.
Each
And
Every
Remnant ray of light is languidly
Feasted on by night’s ravenous silhouette,
Devoured by dusk’s menacing obscurities and shadows,
Engulfed in azures then indigos then navies then black
 
Until there is
Just a void.
The night sky a dark abyss
Filled with a melancholic blackness carried by the hostile clouds.
 
The scandalous stars frequently peer into the dark chasm,
The moon’s solemn gaze veiled by frothy black mounds
Granting no escape from night’s searing gaze,
 
A prison from which none can flee
Governed by night’s minions
Who stirelessly tormenting night’s captives with terrors.
 
Nevertheless
The sun will set us free.
 
Each imperial beam a silent pardon, gradually overcoming the darkness.
Its gilded face dying the earth with yellows and oranges and greens.
The remnant streaks of mauve and amethyst wane,
Replaced by streams of light and tranquil white doves.

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