Darkest Hour
Darkest hour of the night
And Moon it shrivels
Out of sight; clash of steel
Inside his head, a Gladiator
Falls down dead.The victor
Stands behind his shield
And raises sword to crowd’s
Appeal; plebeian shrieks
Of horrid joy celebrate
A life destroyed.
The dreamer turns within
His bed and contemplates
The slave that's dead; another
Image forms inside, more
Secrets that he won’t
Confide.Ten foot lances
Battle spread, hundreds poised
In line ahead ; imagine
Men impaled on spears
Like Shish Kebab and
Dripping tears.
Darkest hour passes by
The Moon it shines high
In the sky. Clouds they
Part , and stars resolve
And snoozing heads
Dreams soon dissolve.
Dropping like a stone
Down deep, he vanishes
In darkest sleep.
Copyright © David Byrne | Year Posted 2010
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