A Roman Tragedy – A Sonnet

A familiar reflection in pools,

Hidden amid mind’s cavernous crevice,

Visions – the smiling young man of today,

How, now, shall time, your misery’s mason,

Sullying, with hammer, chip you away?

I do not long for that dread, dreary day,

When all sensation shall then slip away;

What, then, all ruined in age, shall you say?

It is barbaric, it is so damned crass,

That this, the regal summit of your Rome,

Shall be a mere twenty years, come to pass,

Whilst there the Vandals and the Goths amass;


We are all doomed to see them swarn the gate,

The Tiber’s banks run red as youth abates.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s