Gleaming Pillars

5 Comments

Gleaming Pillars

The pillars arise as though from the earth itself, pale as a cloud's mirror.
Reflecting a majectic magnificence of artistry perfected for the Gods' pleasure.
The roar of a crowd within could be heard miles away, as though a storm growing near.
The blood and battle were sacrifice, the cost was life, treated as no one's treasure.

Swords were sharpened, armor was polished. Aprehension made strong by death.
Chains of servitude sang a chorus in the hypogeum, and agonized cries of beasts shook the walls.
The Gods were praised by blood and scenes of gore, as of Hell's breath.
Favor was won only by the crowd, a victory showered by praise, a deafening roar when beast or man falls.

The gleaming pillars show centuries of blood, martyrdom, murder. Victory and Defeat, well known through the ages.
Many have come, many have perished, many more legends are narrated in homes.
The echo is still heard of the crowd's glory, of beast and man alike in cages.
History is beknownst here, amid the pillars of the Colosseum of ancient Rome.

Poem Comments

(5)

Please login or register

You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

Login or Register

BikemanRJ commented on Gleaming Pillars

04-14-2010

A very historic poem you have created here reminds me of scenes from the movie Ben Hur. Very thought provoking statement "the cost was life, treated as no one's treasure." sad that people"s lives were sacrificed for other entertainment and pleasure. A very well written piece and a good tribute to the time. God Bless Randy

kesavkavumthara commented on Gleaming Pillars

03-30-2010

Really great!....Gleaming pillers make my heart very gladand enthusiastic. Good writing! god bless you!

Mrpoetry commented on Gleaming Pillars

03-22-2010

great poem keep writing...................................

sammia commented on Gleaming Pillars

03-22-2010

Wonderfully written. You have a talent. I had a picture in mine as I read this. Great job keep writing and sharing

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

bjenkins’s Poems (16)

Title Comments
Title Comments
A Siren's Call 2
The Dark 2
Stupid Mistakes 2
Mother of Us All 0
Running Shoes 0
Words of Foreboding (Part Two) 1
Words of Foreboding (Part One) 1
Gleaming Pillars 5
The Barn 4
Admonishments 1
Crimson Kisses 3
Fae Folk 4
Reflections 2
The Whispers of Time 11
My Time Away... 2
Phantom 10