Jerusalem, the Jugular -2

It was not uncommon to discover a missing Brother Legionary castrated, and decapitated with a headless eagle carved upon his chest, don't speak to me of morals and mercy for I have seen and dealt the damage of rude death, hate becomes your Father, vengeance your Mother aggravated murder your cause when everything you revere and fear merge to make a leviathen of life, the "Chosen People" of God became the chosen target of annihilation, Mount Moriah, mansion of Yaweh the Pariah would become capital of Divine crucifixion, February, year 70, after sustaining 5,600 casualties Rome's legions were leering on Jeruselum, I swear the Temple Mount moaned in doom as we assembled the seige weapons religiously, Solomon's Temple sweating dust in our presence, Vulcan's vault opening with ruthless explosion, no more tactics of fire traps and slicing surprise, enemies breath now counted with limited life, catapaults cranked, ballista scorpions loaded and torqued like cobras of chaos, oh how we heaved and hurled at those walls of brittle bastion bricks popping like sticks, heaving corpses, balls of tar fire, stones of moon size walloping, the crumble and cries of Cannanites cauterized our wounds and chastened our courage, as the camp fires fell prostrate to the face of the rolling Sun I addressed the men of the Fifteenth Legion saying, Brothers come near bring your ears to the voice of my heart with no fear, a man who is prepared to die is a man prepared to live, the south wall is torn, today we charge that gash ready to thrash those bastards and avenge everything we believe in, to put worth in the light of our slain Brothers, we were born in different provinces raised in different homes and temples but everyone here has earned his boots, belt and bacon, we are all Brothers in Rome, free men and the most skilled warriors on the planet, we kill those who attempt, not to kill us as individuals but who attempt to kill our future, and past of our Nation, if you must die today, make sure your gladius finds flesh and be certain to follow the Lions home, now let's put our blood to blade and swear loyalty with silence eyes fixed on eyes...hearts drummed to hearts... The battle trumpets burst with the sprite of brass of bravery Centurions blowing the whistles of war like eagles gone insane, as I sprinted into the early carnage existence became a series of thuds grunts and motions the sound of metal chiming became my foresight, discipline a matter of square feet, I saw the Standard Bearer's wolf pelt ablaze and having an arrow through his waist, using the boss bolt of my sheild I launched a rebel onto his back while thrusting my sword up through the nape of another fighter who was hackng my Brother Marius my weapon jammed in his skull, then I got smacked on the cheek with a pommel and a savage cut the tip of my chin off, as I fell I broke that dog's knee with the rim of my sheild, that's sheild lightning for ya, smashing his throat with forearm, I used my dagger to stab him through his gapping mouth, I carried on the butchering with precision and pride for 5 hours saving the lives of a Centurion and 6 other Brothers, and rescued the Standard of Legio V Macedonia from being burned, I actually sealed my chin with the hot metal of the Standard, for these acts of valor I was awarded the Corona Civica, and a lifetime of night terrors, sometimes I think I died in the ruins of Jeruselum, sometimes I feel I'm still there fighting for the taste of honor or for the smell of blood, many of the captured Jews were used as slave labor to construct the Colliseum, we made a death sport arena of Jerusalem but there were no spectators cheering, no audience to applaud the agony of two two cultures in a death match, maybe we were all meant to be gladiators, fighting to make noble graves and pyres - J.A.B. I composed this poem in 2014...Justin A. Bordner