The Fall

By Toyin Falola

The ancient Greek stones, time’s sentinels, align,
Their whispers weave with the winds’ resigned sighs.
A thousand steps, hewn out of will and design,
Call out the brave to the skies of the Venetians.

Every rise makes my heart a fast-beating drum,
The Argolic Gulf expands as a timeless sea.
Strangers go before, their strength steadfast,
While my family mounts upwards in boldness.

But at the topmost stair, fate played its freak,
A slip, a fall, the edge of the world thrown.
My head struck stone; my body, at rest—
The fortress walls my weakness thrown.

The echoes of fear rose from behind,
Three voices cried, their anguish shared.
Yet life, that dogged thread, still aligned,
And from it, I emerged repaired.

I rose with bruises, humbled, sore
But my spirit, Leonidas, roared to rise.
To stand and climb was my sacred chore,
To touch the heavens, claim the prize.

Finally, the summit wind stroked my face,
The bastions whispered: heroes past.
Kolokotronis, Achilles-their mighty grace,
Speaking to me that strength shall always last.

Then came my family and stood next to me, proud and serene,
Their courage-a mirror to who I could have been.
I gazed at my son and my daughter, their shine,
Their future, a fortress stronger than me.

Going down, the steps became small,
A survived journey-a life regained.
Palamidi heights, its rise, its fall,
Forever etched in memory’s frame.