Africa’s Fallen Angels

Their crumpled, lifeless bodies
litter the cold cement floor
An unlikely graveyard
Remnants of a long, overnight battle,
a struggle to survive
a fight for food
a buzzing debacle of sorts.
Fallen soldiers,
ripped limb from limb
Silent, sleeping amputees,
With no more song left to sing.
The casualties were high
on every side.
Each army’s dismembered comrades
creating a eery obstacle
for their gods to tip-toe by.
No one gives a second glance
to their twitching,
spazzing appendages.
We cannot entertain the thought
of saving yet another soul.
At the rising of the swollen African sun,
the troops have all dispersed,
and cut their losses.
Perhaps now recuperating,
mourning their defeated brothers.
These swarms of mother nature’s angels
Have faded for the day
away from our waking world,
All in preparation,
For their midnight, six-legged domination.

By Ashleigh Stafford