(no subject)

[nswarts]

I saw us all in a field of green
wearing our laurels, a victory scene
flattened and tall on ancient big screens
painted in murals beside the Aegean.

We stay
rare running forms
on flat dead walls
graceful forever
never knowing a fall

We stay
rare running forms
on flat dead walls
graceful and clever
forever enthralled
with the climax of victory
the throb of defeat
while empires buckle
and fall at our feet

As haunted pastels fade out of view
the hospital blue and sick yellow hue
Time has erased all your face but your eyes
but your outline's defined, defying demise.