Spartacus! Poem by Denis Martindale

Who am I and what has become of me?
Once I was a free man and walked this land.
I lived the life of my own choosing.
No master instructed me in the art of life and death.
No whip crossed the span of my back.
Nor were there chains or bonds upon my flesh.
Nor blood streaming down like tears upon my face.
I am nothing…
Nothing but the bad memories of my heart rotting…
I am but the bad memories borne of Rome,
Mixed in with the rare moments of calm.
The gods mock me openly.
They put me to the test in the arena.
Then surround me with hateful, fearful foes.
These come at me desiring my quick death.
But I have been trained to defend and to attack.
I can strike like serpents, rise like eagles,
Tear flesh like lions and then stand alone.
Why then can I not fight for freedom,
To depart this spiteful blood-stained home,
To ride a horse once more,
To defeat Rome and all it stands for…
To live… even if death is the latter price of victory?
And why must I stand alone in this?
Do you not also bear the scars of training?
The brand mark of a slave?
The same hatred in your heart?
The same sense of brotherhood as I?
If we merely stay, we die, just as any man.
But if we leave this mansion of misery,
Consider the taste of freedom…
Choose well, my brothers in arms…
For who knows what tomorrow may bring
For a man who is counted as nothing?


Denis Martindale June 2020.


Based on the initial writings of
Mattia Gavasso on the Quora website.