Wolves of Rome-Poem

Wolves of Rome

The wolves of Rome do prowl about, searching, seeking those who doubt

Herding, culling, chaff to flame, as winged moths in greed’ profane

Those filled with lustful passions burn, or incest, murder, spite, do yearn

Of wolves who howl and bay at night, of this tonight I pray and write

My time is nigh I fear and shake, for soon this earth I know will quake

So here I sit to ease my fright, in laughing jest of reapers might

The wolves of Rome, behind my eyes, in hidden shadow, graying skies

Once suckling babes on seven hills, creating kingdoms, worldly ills

Licking blood from off the cross, the stalking rage of cultures lost

Gray as clouds and black coal, some with coats as white as snow

Fang and talon, tensed to rip, spittle strings spill down and drip

Pallid teeth that shine and glow, moist and wet, so long they grow

 Starring up at siren moon, each eye a glow in crimson bloom

With God a loft in blackened night, rising up, to heavens light

Each howl and yip a question asked, from whom or what, do answers pass

Eagerly they watch their orb, with rapt intent, wide-eyed discord

Things wolves know that wolves don’t tell, are things best left alone, in Hell

Things they know that we don’t dare, to find the things that they won’t share

They cry and call as midnight tolls, to each, another’s joining calls

In unison, as one they bleat, to match and mate the others feat

Eyes to sky, on haunches bent, in praise to revenant Lords, lament

Life and death that does not cease, for in the act of war lives peace

With jaw and claw the wolves they spread, snatching youths from mother’s bed

To fight and die in other lands, in other worlds, on other sands

The wolves of Rome, the dogs of war, never naught but deaths tamed whores

Honor, bravery, fortunes found, evaporate in gore-wet grounds

Selfless, kindness, duty, friend, all for naught meet violent end

Still I hear their rising calls, calls to war and Gods of Mars

Across the earth the wolf pack spreads, kill them all, holy jihad

Babies, mothers, brother, kin food for wolves, Satan’s friendss

I am aware, of this I know, as bitter truth shall yet true show

Things once known in ancient Greece, what then was choose for Caesar’s feasts

Deaths repast from tooth of beasts, the wolf, the hound, fair pities least

When mercy begged, compassion frowned, and silken scarf of beauties gown

Finds no suitor for token gift nor slightest breeze from queen to lift

Is birthed alas but two thumbs down, death declared by men in crowns

Thus duly scorned and end decreed, the Wolves of Rome are then set free

Tiger, Bear and Lion alike, first kill the prey with mighty strike, Before they feast

In bloods delight, yet dog and wolf, so unalike, rip and tear…and eat alive

I hear sharp claws a clicking now, on oaken floor and stony tile

Softened pads of canine paws, throughout the world and heavens pause

To sniff the air for scents of death, dying worlds, nations spent

Up the steps they creep and stalk, to silence all our loving thoughts

Oh but that I’d never learned, never sought and never yearned

To know the secretes wolfs know well, to know just why they howl and yell

Why each night when moon is high, they group and howl and pray to sky

Well now I know yet serves me not, this wisdom pulled from death and rot

The door it creaks upon its hinge, snouts push open, paws pat in

For if the world in death throes speak, these secretes that I hold and keep

Then we may be the next to know, just how it feels to die so slow

Eaten up while still alive, toes and fingers, ears and eyes

For Rome died not within a day, nor in a night nor years passed way

Yet eaten up while still alive, she died her death a thousand times

Like we shall soon all come to know, as dogs of war and wolves of Rome

Eat our livers, warm and full, before our eyes, both chewed and culled

So scream and beg for God to kill, till tongue is ate, wolf bellies filled

Hear the screams of pain and fear, close your ears, Hell is near

 (c)2011 Tim Wilkinson & Wayne Wilks

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