MORITURI TE SALUTANT

The road is dust, and grit, and dirt down trampled, weathered,

painting gray streaks, as to your hair it clings,

[: star-journey-path, bejewelled, and stony-clasped together,

and plumed with hope, plucked out from Paegas’ wings :]

The road’s a whip, and like a lady of the street, vile,

nametags in hand, foil chaff around the waist.

[: her eyes afire with lust, heedlessly hurling meanwhile

two gladioli – fragile fronds, to waste. :]

[Refrain:]

Sergeant, sand white are the arms of Danielle,

one moment, wait! My eyes have seen too well

that long-gone moment, of obliteration,

Sergeant! Wave on, lead our initiation!

Morituri te salutant, morituri te salutant!

I took that road, went on, where on the ground saw twitching

a dove wing feathered white and churning up the sand,

[: my march played out by cannon fire, calm a-preaching,

raising the downy plumes which death portend. :]

The road is tar, and dust, and dirt stomp-hardened, draining,

a brass bee droning from a warewolf’s lair,

[: my rusty gun to lean on, hundred-year-old staining,

and white clouds, monstrous, hanging in the air. :]

[R:]