THE DEFILE (part 3)
Limping painfully,
along the beaten track,
outside the Roman encampment,
of Legio III Gallica,
whose rampaging columns,
ranging far and wide,
have laid waste the countryside
Twas the vengeful work of
Caius Accius Sparsus,
whose dear betrothed,
was so hideously crucified,
on the valley floor of the great defile,
by barbarian warriors,
in defiance of Roman rule
My people have felt,
the taste of Roman wrath,
as Caius Accius Sparsus,
and his rapacious men,
surrounded every village,
ruthlessly slaughtering all,
who dared resist
Now I their leader,
the barbarian queen,
hobbles painfully under guard,
past endless rows of crosses
arrayed along this beaten track,
each carrying a human burden
nailed pitifully to its gnarled wood
I led the barbarian army,
resisted Roman might
fought the legion to a standstill,
until the approach of night,
when suddenly a hurtling pilum
passing through my thigh,
forced my anguished cry
I fell in awful agony,
clutching my wounded leg,
and to my shock and horror,
overheard my warriors cry,
she is down, all is lost,
the battle shall now surely go,
the way of the hated Romans host
Panic gripped my forces,
as they tried,
the battlefield to flee,
Roman legionaries, flush with victory
advanced in disciplined line,
beating, hacking and cutting
panicky fugitives down in droves
Carnage, carnage everywhere,
as far as eye can see,
barbarian resistance died that day,
when its leader failed,
to lead her warriors forward,
sadly only the surviving wounded,
shall now see the light of day
Taken from the field that night,
stripped of shield and sword,
hauled to my feet,
and obliged to shuffle,
along with thousands more,
down that dusty road,
triumphant Romans at our side
One by one my surviving followers
are forced to either side,
to take their place,
astride a waiting cross,
to be nailed and raised,
to suffer and slowly die,
ignobly along that road
As I near the encampment gate
one last cross awaits,
larger, heavier than the rest,
laying on a rising slope,
a heightened vantage point,
visible to any and all who care
to weigh the might of Rome
Quickly stripped of all my clothes,
thrown naked on rough wooden stipe,
arms stretched out,
wrists are bound,
a bag of nails produced,
sharp points set in place,
hammers ringing down
I scream to my gods,
buck and arch my back,
my mounded breasts do quake,
blood spurts from my punctured wrists,
the pain is hard to take,
I gasp and cry and squint my eyes,
as sunlight beats upon my face
Strong hands grasp my legs,
knees are bent,
feet roped in place,
two more gleaming spikes appear,
placed menacingly against my feet,
the clang of hammers striking iron,
the nailing is complete
I howl and scream,
as my cross is raised,
dropped in place and secured,
the dance of death begins,
I twist and writhe,
my bare breasts sway,
my gaping sex displays
Above my head a wooden placard,
nailed crookedly in place,
reads with sardonic wit,
“Here hangs lovely Barbaria,
Queen of all who bear the guilt,
for the craven massacre of the defile.
Rome never forgets!”
Barbaria, 2014
Limping painfully,
along the beaten track,
outside the Roman encampment,
of Legio III Gallica,
whose rampaging columns,
ranging far and wide,
have laid waste the countryside
Twas the vengeful work of
Caius Accius Sparsus,
whose dear betrothed,
was so hideously crucified,
on the valley floor of the great defile,
by barbarian warriors,
in defiance of Roman rule
My people have felt,
the taste of Roman wrath,
as Caius Accius Sparsus,
and his rapacious men,
surrounded every village,
ruthlessly slaughtering all,
who dared resist
Now I their leader,
the barbarian queen,
hobbles painfully under guard,
past endless rows of crosses
arrayed along this beaten track,
each carrying a human burden
nailed pitifully to its gnarled wood
I led the barbarian army,
resisted Roman might
fought the legion to a standstill,
until the approach of night,
when suddenly a hurtling pilum
passing through my thigh,
forced my anguished cry
I fell in awful agony,
clutching my wounded leg,
and to my shock and horror,
overheard my warriors cry,
she is down, all is lost,
the battle shall now surely go,
the way of the hated Romans host
Panic gripped my forces,
as they tried,
the battlefield to flee,
Roman legionaries, flush with victory
advanced in disciplined line,
beating, hacking and cutting
panicky fugitives down in droves
Carnage, carnage everywhere,
as far as eye can see,
barbarian resistance died that day,
when its leader failed,
to lead her warriors forward,
sadly only the surviving wounded,
shall now see the light of day
Taken from the field that night,
stripped of shield and sword,
hauled to my feet,
and obliged to shuffle,
along with thousands more,
down that dusty road,
triumphant Romans at our side
One by one my surviving followers
are forced to either side,
to take their place,
astride a waiting cross,
to be nailed and raised,
to suffer and slowly die,
ignobly along that road
As I near the encampment gate
one last cross awaits,
larger, heavier than the rest,
laying on a rising slope,
a heightened vantage point,
visible to any and all who care
to weigh the might of Rome
Quickly stripped of all my clothes,
thrown naked on rough wooden stipe,
arms stretched out,
wrists are bound,
a bag of nails produced,
sharp points set in place,
hammers ringing down
I scream to my gods,
buck and arch my back,
my mounded breasts do quake,
blood spurts from my punctured wrists,
the pain is hard to take,
I gasp and cry and squint my eyes,
as sunlight beats upon my face
Strong hands grasp my legs,
knees are bent,
feet roped in place,
two more gleaming spikes appear,
placed menacingly against my feet,
the clang of hammers striking iron,
the nailing is complete
I howl and scream,
as my cross is raised,
dropped in place and secured,
the dance of death begins,
I twist and writhe,
my bare breasts sway,
my gaping sex displays
Above my head a wooden placard,
nailed crookedly in place,
reads with sardonic wit,
“Here hangs lovely Barbaria,
Queen of all who bear the guilt,
for the craven massacre of the defile.
Rome never forgets!”
Barbaria, 2014
Last edited:
... "the better to stick it into.....," replies the good and honest Judge.