Beware the Ides of March (April 2007)

I thought myself to be invincible
even when those eyes burnt
into some depth of me and gripped my heart
with the benevolence of a poison
and her parched hands clasped mine
with the desperation of a woman
often forgotten.

On nights like this I have seen the ends
of cities, gods, and ages:
rogues estranged from the seas to bleed
against skies and crosses
and men, vainglorious fall to swells
of sand and vicious waters.

Tragic,

but there is no honor in dying
by the sword of a man you loved.