SPARTACUS WEEPS!

I live through much; torn and
tormented,
Crackling leaves engage my eyes
in bloody rituals,
Blood and sand have become
compatriots,
As each gladiator falls, the sand
relishes,
Corpses are strewn all over, some
heads hoisted on spears,
Scathing winds transport remorse
in the camp,
As men wail as brats; a missing
limb, a torn heart.

Dust shrill as Crassus and his
legions visit,
Grunts tear the sky and groaning
feet fall occasionally,
Wind bites the souls that leave
too soon,
Tattered hopes scamper from
Capua to unknown places,
The sky weeps and the battle
intensifies,
The gods can’t help, they flinch
at the mention of – arbitrate!
War is bitter it proves but we
recoil not.

Dust shrill as Crassus and his
legions visit,
Grunts tear the sky and groaning
feet fall occasionally,
Wind bites the souls that leave
too soon,
Tattered hopes scamper from
Capua to unknown places,
The sky weeps and the battle
intensifies,
The gods can’t help, they flinch
at the mention of – arbitrate!
War is bitter it proves but we
recoil not.

Piling bodies hide the sun and the
battlefield darkens.
As swords hiss, reminscing on the
arena becomes sweet,
Because rip was mostly fun but
this agony cuts deeply.
The Appian alleys destroys
warriors and savages alike,
Men plummet to their death on
miscreant rocks from weeping
chariots, As blisters no longer
matter but survival burns.
Death spirals in harrowing sounds
and time seeds no effort.

Overwhelmed from the grief and
gladiators brutness and blades,
The cry for freedom of six
thousand slaves,
Is diminshed, as laughing crosses
beckon for a body each.
Nails whiplash with joy as they
tear through our flesh and bones,
We hang precariously from our
loving crosses – defeated!
And tears shoot through our eyes
like rattling snakes tails,
Deformed and weak, we painfully
await our impending death!

© Eddy Ongili 2013

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