"Before a Fall" - Bahamas AI Art
©A. Derek Catalano
Pride Goeth Before a Fall
The sun, a brazen eye, surveyed the land,
And bathed in gilded light, a figure grand.
Upon a peak, where winds did softly croon,
Stood Arrogance, beneath the midday moon
(Though truth be told, the sun held court on high,
He saw no shadow 'neath his burning eye).
His chin was raised, his chest a puffed-out drum,
Proclaiming triumphs, past and yet to come.
He spoke of conquests, battles bravely fought,
Of wisdom gleaned, and lessons dearly bought.
His voice, a trumpet, echoed through the air,
Dismissing whispers of a hidden snare.
"Behold!" he cried, "My might, my keenest wit!
No foe can stand where my decree has writ.
The very mountains bow before my gaze,
And rivers bend to navigate my ways."
No counsel sought, no warning he would heed,
For in his heart, bloomed self-important seed.
Humility, a concept strange and weak,
He cast aside, no gentle word to speak.
The wise ones watched, with sorrow in their eyes,
As pride's bright banner blazoned 'cross the skies.
They knew the ancient rhythm, deep and true,
Of rise and fall, for me and even you.
He built his towers, reaching for the stars,
Ignoring fissures, cracks, and unseen scars.
The foundations groaned, the mortar started to fret,
But "Strong!" he roared, "No weakness here, no debt!"
He mocked the timid, those who walked with care,
Who knew the ground could crumble, anywhere.
His laughter boomed, a challenge to the fates,
Unknowing doom that lingered at his gates.
Then came the tremor, subtle at the start,
A ripple through his overweening heart.
A gust of wind, unbidden and so strong,
Disturbed the rhythm of his boastful song.
He stumbled, just a moment, caught off guard,
His crown askew, his visage growing hard.
He clutched for balance, reached for solid ground,
But only emptiness was to be found.
The earth beneath, once firm, began to sway,
As pride's grand edifice commenced decay.
A single stone dislodged, then two, then three,
A cascade falling, for all eyes to see.
The towers crumbled, dust began to rise,
Obscuring sunlight from his widening eyes.
His cries of triumph turned to gasping fear,
As all he'd built, came crashing, drawing near.
Down, down he fell, from heights he'd proudly claimed,
His former glory, now a vision maimed.
The echoes faded, and the dust then cleared,
Revealing wreckage, all his power seared.
No grand procession, no applauding throng,
Just silence where his boast had lingered long.
And in that silence, lessons stark and grim,
A whispered truth, from nature's ancient hymn.
For pride, a heavy cloak, will drag you down,
From highest pinnacle to lowly town.
A fall awaits, for spirits puffed with might,
Who scorn the shadows, blinded by their light.
So walk with grace, with reverence and awe,
Respect the balance, and obey the law
Of humble heart, and wisdom's quiet plea,
Lest pride go forth, and bring you to your knee.
©A. Derek Catalano/Gemini
