of Heroes Fall - The Price of Glory
by James Dye
Past fading halls, where
forgotten galleries cry,
through cracked walls, where somber memories die,
and below riven floors, fallen heroes lie, forever still;
past destruction, beyond ruin, before all that's left,
is the towering courageous and heroic suffering bereft
by corroding all we see perpetually for only destiny to see?
"Annihilate all," says a
vindictive reverberation, "Annihilate all."
An apocalyptic cadence roars in ascendancy until Doomsday,
"From cryptic us, force of all destruction, control the sway;
control benevolence; manipulate man; control this way
as an absolute Goliath; destroy all David minds."
I deem we were taken as
I deem we were forsaken as harlequins by Hellequin earls;
the promise to be rapture we were taught naught;
sought inhumanities captured and bought
ripped the script of humanities' plot.
All our sway is gone; all our
honor is lost;
all our diabolism our malodorous fame cost;
accost the cost the accosted accost cost costs
let loose the flaws of societies' lost cause lost.
All the uncertainty that covers
all the paradox that in us lied,
all the death's head noose tide upon
hang about us now, tied forever on.
Eclipsed in the blood of
ellipse dud of morality,
fatality as immorality achieved
as immortality is unreceived.
Never trust in a tin god's
don't fight the blighted sods fight;
smite with light; right tyrant sight;
Ablazen rays gaze at plight's height:
Here lies defeats.
Rise from ashes.
one thousand lashes.
© 2011 James Dye
James Dye is an undergraduate in English at the University of Dubuque
Find more by James Dye in the Author Index.
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