By Adam Kane.
Victory burned bright in his veins,
and glory was, at his destiny's reins,
for fortune was fair and vic'tory assured,
and so forth with folly was he lured.
Failure lay before him, wreathed in folly's fumes,
so saw he not his comrades, and their fallen bloodied plumes.
Their wounded warnings rose, and their worn voices roared,
yet he harked not, and drew his ungored sword.
Into the storm he strolled,
as the battle's thunder rolled.
Victory burned before him, and failure blazed about him,
so saw he not the sabre,
that ended his fruitless labour.
In faith he went forward, and in failure he fell back,
with nothing to console him,
but courage he did not lack,
for his dying eyes felt, that all he could build,
was fate unfaithful, and glory unfulfilled.
© Copyright 2012 Fredofasgarnia (UN: wellington1963 at Writing.Com).
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