Kilamajaro in the morning mists, grows graceful to the sky. Kill a man or a woman revenge circumvents any reason why. Mighty lions of the Nile lord above the precocious pride. Others dream in deadly anonymity for those who have died. Blurred cheetahs chase across the Serengeti Plain. Bone yards, pools of infant blood, a world going insane. Kings and queens, distant relatives, regal next of kin, bloated black bodies float united until the river’s end. Strutting Ray-Ban peacocks plunder, pillage and rape while diseased box canyons provide dangerous escape. Tainted blood, cankered sores paint scars on the tribal floor The truth offers a crimson light for those led to explore From a distance, long range cameras offer idyllic views of zebras and lumbering elephants deflecting daily news. Dank heart of darkness, red eyes stare ahead over piles of rotting corpses, putrefying bodies of the dead. Voices of hope, silenced in secrecy and hidden jails. Foreign aid junkies sell that which is not for sale. Freshly herded leaders favor facades of romance, blocking outrageous reality, marring any chance to understand the truth sprung deeply from dark loins, missing out on the enigma of both sides of the coin. Still, fresh foliage and hope grows bolder further to the south where freedom teeters tenuously on liberty’s furrowing plough. Memory paints sapphire ocean around Goree transfer site, where tear stained walls lay hidden under new stucco white. Sun sets in the west, glittering Gold and Ivory Coast, eyes across the Atlantic ask questions of the host. Look around you dark neighbor, taste the ebony loam Is it bitter or is it sweet, is it still that close to home?