Ides of March
...twenty three stab wounds towards a Roman Empire...
Ides of March
battle wearied stressed
home bound crossed the rubicon
said the die is cast
foreboding river stood still
wolves howled at dawn rising sun
never seen shades of dark sky
all five years to Ides of March
gasps “et tu Bruté”
friend and protégé was he
house chaos ensued
wolves howled at dawn rising sun
sky opened behold rainbow
arched from Rubicon to Rome
republic died born empire
white red black and pale horses
cast gloom beyond the stab wounds
yet always rising
in harmony as always
the sun and the moon
steadfast strong in love and faith
life on earth goes on
has not skipped a bit dreaming
past the Ides of March
***
©ndr 03.07.2025
Photo: Et tu Brute by W H Sullivan, painting 1888
...no matter what, life goes on...we are happy-we are sad-we smile...we accept...we have faith...
