RUBICON

RUBICON

The die is cast said Julius Caesar,
We are at the point of no return.
We may as well our fortunes fold,
And all our blazing bridges burn.

And into the muddy, murky waters,
I deign to surrender my fate.
Perhaps there's still a saving grace,
Perhaps my pardon's come too late.
Midnight tolls its ancient bell,
I am ready for my fond farewell.
Ready to tie the ancient bond,
Ready to forge the Rubicon.

Custer had just one last stand
And I have now had many.
Nathan Hale regretted his only life,
For me one life is plenty.
Like Patrick Henry, it's liberty or death,
Anything else is wasted breath.
Like my forefathers who engineered this nation,
I am ready for the conflagration,
To be consumed in fire or ashes,
Like Fourth of July firework crashes
That celebrate our victory from the tyranny across the pond,
My die is cast into the waters of the stoic Rubicon.

Sailing to Rome in my golden boat,
These electrodes halos circling my head.
Struggling hard to stay afloat,
With arms and legs that feel like lead.
A walk I just can't get quite right,
Limping so gallantly into the night.

Like Lee to Grant I capitulate,
My reinforcements come too late.
The tide has turned, the die is cast,
And I must leave this world at last.

Like Sherman I have burnt the city,
Leaving destruction in my wake.
I have made my march down to the sea,
So many shattered dreams at stake.
I am not a hero and I am not a brave man,
But I have lived a precious life and done the best I can.

Into the sunset blindly I go, mariner take warning,
The signs are etched in concrete that herald my defeat.
My clothes are black, torn and rent,
My energies are all spent in mourning.
Every life it has its peril, every cruise its ending,
I am weeping to the dimming day, on busted kneecaps bending. 
Humbled by one too many falls, out of reach and strangely hidden,
I cast my cares down this flight of stairs, heaven bound and bedridden.

I am sailing blindly past the purple and velvet horizon,
Weakened perhaps but seasoned and all the more wizened.
Content that I will wake again on the other side of dawn,
Beyond the muddy, murky waters of the stoic Rubicon.

-Bruce Potts
Revised Copyright 2015
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED