Just Another Day/Dance of the Danube

Me vs. Life

It was not my decision that put me here at this moment.   Rather, it was a succession of hasty and forced decisions when the hands of destiny and of Imperial pressures wrapped themselves around my throat and heart, forcing my hand to take up this sword and shoulder this shield.

 

I had been pressed into the bosom of Rome's burden before I could take up my father's sickle and raze his weeds from his father's land.  Several seasons had come and gone under the foot of Rome's majestic falcon's foot as my sharpened spear plundered the wealth of warriors of a multitude of nations.

 

Yet, I was paid enough, or rather stole enough, that if I were to survive where her talons were now about to drop me, that I, myself, may one day claim my own bride and rear my own sons...

or at least the comforts of my mind's eye would allow me to see in order that I may rest my head on cold, hard Earth nightly and rest for the morrow's dastardly deeds.

 

Still, I feel it has all come down to this very moment.  The Danube's dance bares her thighs across our rafts and the blades of November's rain-soaked breeze pierce my sadist's garb and rouse my wounds to rawness.  My knee stays bowed submissively on the logs of our raft as if I were before Mars himself, pleading for permission to not cower before the heart and axe of my foe who now stands in his multitude behind the Autumnal purge of foliage.  The savages stand howling in unison and beat their thick iron blades against their never cleaned brutish bodies as if to call us to their, soon to come, feast on our flesh.

 

Though only a Roman by force, I felt comfort in her decision to cleanse her yard of these Germanic beasts whose stench even the crows can detect from Alpine passes to Iberian vineyards, who take the women and children of our citizenry and shackle them to bed-chambers and plows.  The only comfort in my trembling half-bowed knee is in knowing that when our rafts crash onto their shore it will rise and my blade will cleanse this land and wash it with their blood.

 

Still, my fear is as palpable as my festering wounds and quiet reserve...

 

All the while--

 

Barbarians sharpen blade and fang

waiting for the dance of the Danube

to dash us against her rocks and

flush us into their hellish embrace.

Author's Note

Honing craft, and such.

Reviews

[Nik Dendera]

Interesting piece. Although I'm not big on the Romans, this was a refreshing break from what I usually get asked to read.

Again, you've written this beautifully, and to a high standard you seem compelled to stick to. May I suggest you lengthen this piece? It stands on its own as it is, but to delve just that little bit deeper into that world would be a remarkable read.

Thank you for sending me this, this is definately the best I've read so far!

[Lady Lazarus.]

a piece that has left me in tears due to its sublime beauty,sadness and search for an unknown purveyor of hope.
This is what words are meant to do.
move one...

[Katrina]

wow.

seriously -- straw in ear zombie style sucking of your brain is in order. well, actually, i think that was in saved by the bell with the alien. but still. point is you have mad skillz and whatnot.

per usual -- smells like awesome.

xxx