The lamps now glitter down the street;
Faintly sound the falling feet;
And the blue even slowly falls
About the garden trees and walls.
Now in the falling of the gloom
The red fire paints the empty room:
And warmly on the roof it looks,
And flickers on the back of books.
Armies march by tower and spire
Of cities blazing, in the fire;—
Till as I gaze with staring eyes,
The armies fall, the lustre dies.
Then once again the glow returns;
Again the phantom city burns;
And down the red-hot valley, lo!
The phantom armies marching go!
Blinking embers, tell me true
Where are those armies marching to,
And what the burning city is
That crumbles in your furnaces!
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
-
coming to a wall and standing at it. do I go over it or do I try to trek around it? is it a short walk and if I go over the wall will there be any danger?
that's the imagery that this piece gives me, the question, though there's really no question being asked, it's more of a statement being said.
a war, soldiers, crimes against society, I feel in some ways this piece contributes to that notion. one sectional community is destroyed and those who destroyed that community takes their place just to stay there and ultimately wait for some other army to destroy them .. it's an un-ending consequence until finally there's only one army left and when there is or would there - how would they have victory if there's no one there to to deprive them of it?




