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Open Poetry #48
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Gladiator
| Open Poetry #48 |
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Gladiator |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California 
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Gladiator It’s taken two and a half years For me to face the mirror so – Beyond the pain, beyond the loss, And suffering but I could know. Somewhere, on through the wasted tears, (Prayers cast to graceless deities); I learned, in vain, to hold my cross… A broken king, upon skinned knees. The remedy for senseless plight, A staged visit before the crowd… Where all before was ripped from me, Where all cherished was disavowed. Banned, by decree, in lieu the fight. A right, it is, become my life. Where nevermore by night would be, Through dream, perished, a loving wife… …Held close to me, or known in heart. A fighting man has not the sense To twist the lie to his own ends – To sow the seeds of recompense. And so the sea of faces start To run the span of voices swept, Two-by-two die, while hell descends ‘Pon unsung deeds – ‘pon vows unkept. The lineage of far-flung hope Traceable to one lifelong quest; Where even Destiny denies That you, without loss, stand the best. For there is love, and like a rope A fool has too long struggled with; You’ve failed its test, while darkness vies Beyond all doubt to prove it myth… …That conquest hones a strength in men Who live their lives arena bound, In a world set to disregard Your sin, over the carnage found. And so, as drones, striking again With swords, with knives, with teeth, with bile, Glory’s eyes let the fall come hard, As you watch her but from denial. That death may come, a man may wish, Still prudence dares to prove him wrong… And, in the end, weeping, alone Angels refuse to hear his song. A distant drum might abolish Hope nature fares to sharpened edge. But, without friend, such polished stone May but find use as demon’s pledge. You see it now that it’s too late, The dream slipped by that darkness swept. Still, ‘raise you blade, one final time, If bit to honor love, inept. Amazed at how you’ve tempted Fate – Refused to die, but live on, dead. As, by her shade, some soulless rhyme Sings of the conquest in your head. Michael Anderson Death's but a path that must be trod, |
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| © Copyright 2012 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved | |||
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Fine writing...the title is great...James |
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katahdin Senior Member
since 2010-07-01
Posts 1196ME. In the Shadow of the Mt. |
I love your poems. I like your style of writing and wish I could write like that. They all seem so sad and dark and without hope. Would like to see something a little lighter in spirit but if you're not feeling it, then I understand. Anyway, Merry Christmas! Kat >^..^< |
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Spiros Zafiris Senior Member
since 2002-10-20
Posts 982Canada |
..well-written poem..i can relate [especially when quite younger..!] ..Happy Holidays..! ..spiros ~~ |
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