Fallen

February 7, 2018
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Gazing out and amazed at the beauty of nature at its peak, craving for the day like an expectant
mother longing for her new babe to behold into the world unknown.

Sitting and soliloquizing on where the glamorous events of the moonlight tales of Freedom and Love told had crept underneath to. Then I realized I was born into a new generation called the RECONCILIATION AGE which was free from tales of colonial interference, apathy and the dreaded civil war but resounding events of war still sent down cold shivers down my spine, wondering if the message of love ever encircled our race or it was born out of the supposed willingness to be free. Obviously it’s a sad vicious cycle and I felt there was nothing I could do than to move swiftly with the hands of time but it dawned on me that the worst option was to do nothing, then I sought for my weapon certainly not a weapon of war cause freedom doesn’t come from the barrel of a gun, but I sought for an enclosed weapon inhabiting an ink that is mightier than the sword, with the aim of using this weapon to proclaim the message of love not only to the aged but to the building blocks of the reconciliation age who unfortunately serve as the boundary between Slavery and Freedom, Hatred and Love, Past and the
Bright future we desire. Instead of us finding nothing to do we should find something and care about it.

Although we think we might have fallen deep we should remember that we are all journeying on a long walk to freedom together, seeing our adversary fears as our minority and remembering that though tongues and tribes may differ in brotherhood we stand.






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