The Forum

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Irony seems to write history. Trust created betrayal.

Submitted: November 20, 2006

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Submitted: November 20, 2006

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"This day lingers.

I look at their fingers...

Hands clinch with battle spasm..."

Sickness erupts in the Forum like a shout in a chasm.

"Romans...Countrymen...the Senate has failed!

Tyrants await... not yet unveiled!"

The Senators look around with points made.

Each soggy from the murder that won’t fade.

Brutus and Casca attempt to calm the crowd,

"Fellow Senators, your voices heard loud."

Brutus announces while displaying my corpse like a gladiator.

Casca’s forked tongue is no less sparing, the consummate orator:

"This invading, conformed Gaul dead before you, re infecta!

Poison his words. War his action, Republica!"

The Forum echoes to the cry.

I only hope my soul does not yet fly.

Now the situation splinters.

Like shined marble glimmers.

Marc Antony sits in luxury.

While I lay for infamy.

The sun sets on Rome with imperial violet.

The coming months will be extremely violent...


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