The Slope

The Slope
(Sequel to Freedom Frozen)

D. Segura
5/25/2006

We’ve plunged over the edge
And the slope is slick
With its jet black sheen.

The lemurs were led
From under the Brush and all his branches
To the precipice and pushed.

The lemurs have gone to die
And each of their deaths
Kills a piece of the rest of us.

Our collective Spirit dies a little
As their Souls are
Released from Duty’s pangs.

The marching lemurs are hardly mindless,
But Brains don’t serve much purpose when
They are but spattered gray-matter.

Gravity’s pull takes so much with it
Down the Slippery Slope.

So much is lost.
So many are gone.

How many melodies and sharp pens lost?
How much love and security gone?

How many ideas and dreams lost?
How many Daddies and Mommies gone?

To Death’s silence, how many prayers lost?
How many faiths gone?

They are lost for now,
Gone forever.

How much more to lose?
How much farther to fall?

Still, we slip and slide down with the black sheen
And into a deeper darkness than we can remember.