Sunday, June 04, 2006

An iron cross
acutely honed
once helped us conquer all,
the certain loss
of change postponed
began our drastic fall.

A wooden cross
awash with gore
then helped us to regain
the sterling gloss
we donned before,
a crown of proud disdain.

3 comments:

rch said...

Hey travis, thanks. It struck me the other day how a sword can look like a cross, then that led to thoughts of Rome, maybe that's why it feels a little archaic. Take care,

Bob

Crunchy Weta said...

Ahh I was wondring what the iron cross was.
One of my favourite authors was Phillip K Dick. He postulated that we still remain captive to the Roman empire in both metaphorical and literal sense (we are brainwashed a la matrix style to believe we live in some modern world - all of this projected into our minds by some vast active living system (the web?) floating in space.)And why not?

rch said...

Damn, I can finally answer you. Well that explains this overwhelming need I have to don a toga and engage in all night orgies. I thought I was having a mid-life crisis but Mr. Dick's theory makes much more sense. 8^D