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A Night At The Roman Gates
The third and the last fourth quarters, made no sound at all
The first and the fourth parts built up a sound upon an old wall
There were scaffolds of gold, traces of all riches beside the fallen towers
It’s the first night at the Roman gates: the last finders are counting the lost hours
The night swift as broken spears, the beats gather into one symphony of delight
Now God watches all this closely in silence and repose
With the Jews and Gentiles sharing a common space upon the history close
Silence prevails in cold shatter: the mood is lost through the art of these ciphers
The senators walk around in silence, building up tumults of joy to all the lifers
It’s a night at the Roman gates: the moon await in splendor and in vivified sight
History walks around tombs of ancient queens, paving words on golden wings
Still memory sweeps this silent night, and places owned before by ROMAN Kings
02-03 March 2008, a first to the collection: 'History Unbound'
poem
by
Sicelo Sithole
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