She was like the sunset.

And only a few knew how to love her.

No one embraced the darkness that followed.

She was dark and beautiful.

But mortals loved brighter things.

She was diverse, had so much inside of her.

A combusting inferno that she was, ready to sear everyone who refused to believe in her. 

But she kept it all inside, to succour everyone with that warmth, that smile.

Picture by Ajibola Sunday.

Poem by Tajwar fatma. 


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