I thought of this poem this morning and decided to share it. The rhyme scheme was inspired by the Joseph Strauss poem, ‘The Mighty Task Is Done’, written in celebration of the completion of the Golden Gate Bridge. It is a favourite poem of a good friend of mine, and I really enjoyed his use of rhyme. The subject itself grew out of a playful warning to another friend of mine when she said that she was not afraid of assassins. It has nothing to do with Serbia, a subject to which I hope to return soon when I have more time to write.
The streets are filled, both day and night,
With hist’ry’s silent, fearsome blight;
A force with which none may contend,
That knows alone its law of old:
Good servants weak, and tyrants bold,
All swiftly to their deaths to send.
It matters not thy faith, thy creed,
Nor if thy vice is pride, not greed.
Does happenstance alone draw thee,
Into the fated firing line?
Tell me, is this by God’s design,
Or through an act of Destiny?
The wary wand’rer may postpone,
That stripping of the flesh from bone,
But all in time shall feel the pain,
Of those who move-unheard, unseen-
Through darkened alleys, halls unclean,
To manifest our dreadful bane.
The dark intentions of a blade,
Skillfully wrought or crudely made,
Do dutifully pierce into
The hearts of babes, the hides of men,
Of women pure or draped in sin,
That they may taste the void anew.
The cry, when metal cleaves the air,
Abandoning its grizzly lair,
Is drowned out by the screams of those,
To whom it carries darkness swift;
To them, whose souls, once set adrift,
Can never more find sweet repose.
And those who blissfully remain
In ignorance may hope in vain
To lead their lives as they desire,
Imagining they may survive,
When each day they remain alive,
Just brings them nearer to the fire.