Resten Swondo

The Rape Of Lucretia - Poem by Resten Swondo

That wretched Tarquin tyrant has left me vexed and sore
Abusing me such as one would not a slave or whore
He has put his hands upon my virtue, upon my very soul,
It is as though he has ravaged towns and cities whole
But broken by his vice, that Sextus is not a man,
He is a tyrant, an assassin, unworthy of the name Roman.
The outrage of my fathers is great, my offence an ocean deep,
May he live long, and in every moment may his sons weep
For the shame he visited upon my heart, upon my grieving head,
And may no place harbor him, by the blood I have bled.
My shame shall become my virtue, my freedom shall abound
And once I lay dying by my own hand, may the trumpets sound
As signals to the revolution, the republic to defend and found,
In every son stirring joyous freedom, as my blood stains red the ground.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, January 31, 2010

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