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| DINAH ROMA |
| The Fallen |
| THE AUTHOR HOLDS THE COPYRIGHT TO THIS POEM. THIS IS POSTED WITH PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR. |
| THIS IS PART OF THE LITERATURA READING SERIES | CLICK HERE TO GO BACK TO LITERATURA |
| When I turn the page to catch the story’s end a rustle in the air, more of a whisper, as the lines rushed in waves, trained my ear, to what had entered the room— a following, torn between flesh and flame,. to an ending easier believed as years beckoned truths we had forged our heavens on. Are we not all in the same legion? Except, perhaps, he didn’t know how the battle was to be fought. So while beauty beheld his end, his loss was simply his faith in all that had been given and denied. In those few moments before his last he was beyond forgetting—God’s bejeweled master- stroke, a stealth of light broadening before his sight: Luminous out of the shadows, an angel in the fit of desire flaps his wings into an abyss wiser now for what had fallen and refuses to be redeemed. This poem is part of the collection that won First Prize for Poetry in the 2007 Palanca Awards |