Centurion

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A Prequel to the Poem "Rubicon".

Centurion 09/27/2010


The sky turns crimson, as the Blood of Winter signals the upcoming frost
.

We thought the war had ended when the Laurel seeds were planted. Down by the sea
they had waited for me, all single file, Comrades, Brothers-In-Arms, our faces
betraying no emotion. Under A Eternal Winter did the River's ripples offer a
blissful caress.

Into the Water, will our bones be plundered, our bodies weary, tired, cold and
hungry. Our souls tired by the clash and demands of battle. Images of
crossed-swords and battlecries, gush forth my tears. With our Kingdom felled and
nowhere else to build, we go to embrace our Mother.

I look behind me startled at the visage, bodies vanished, no standing line of
soldiers. Tears flow openly as I remember, the final battle, all my brothers
dead and gone, there's only one lone survivor.

It is only me and the flowing River.

©2010 Tragedienne Belle Morte


Submitted: April 09, 2011

© Copyright 2022 Tragedienne. All rights reserved.

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