The Parting Glass

the final poem in the bachelor party trilogy

With a few drops still in the flask

The story must be told

Of the final fallen

Before they are lost to the dust

Along with these few memories.

 

In the belly of the labyrinth

We wandered the identical passages

Until the path of retreat

Was disguised by the tracks

Of our own plodding feet.

 

Atop the coliseum  

We had ventured to in our youths

On pilgrimages too many to number.

The greats of those years

Are paraded out

Never to come again.

For the third time

Rain blesses the impending union.

 

A room full of fallen warriors

Each a king in his own history

Not defeated…never defeated

Only bowing to the inevitable

For each in turn must face his final battle.

 

Sirens call from below

And I pull myself from the madness

To call to my mates

To come and crash their ships

Upon the rocks below

That our hearts may be pulled from our chests

By razored talons.

 

For it would be a fitting end!

And after our souls are offered up

Perhaps the spirit would remember

And make its way back here

To relive those past triumphs!

 

Nay.

The hall of kings has grown weary

Of old men gingerly sipping

From their mighty flagons

So I return to my chair

And let the dust devour me as well.

Reviews

[TLK]

This has the delicately musty smell of an 'Ozymandia' to it. All shoulders, no matter how great, are brought low by the weight of time.

If you read the Norse Myths, there is an account of Thor fighting time/death. Even the Aesir must buckle beneath it.