Sonnet 363

Blood, sweat and bronze and hooves on grinding stone,
So of this strife were ancient empires born-
Yet of such quested might, where have they gone?
Rubbled  to lines in some forgotten poem.
From fearsome king to foot note leather bound,
A weathered chronicle now crushed by time
Whose song did once fair boast a thousand years
Now shelved in dust, dry parchment there confined.
Is this the fate the mighty to befall
Yes once upon a time, once long ago
A ruler deft with sword did govern all,
His story scribed in righteous blood there strown.
A crumbled monument marks his command,
Raised fist askew, half buried in the sand.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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