The Retirement Of Mars

He pauses on his way, and gazing back
across the desert ways of splintered steel
recalls the noon, and sees his weary track,
and sees the bloody imprint of his heel.
A Mars long tired he stands-a noble Mars!
Stiff with the staggering day, and fields hard won.
His bruised helm is glittering with scars
that gleam afar and spy the setting sun.
With red plumes doffed and foe-revering face
he moves adroop, to seek the sea, the waves,
to seek the sighing winds, the shades of space,
and rest his heart within Twilight Caves.
The dazzling axe is deep, its lord abed.
The dead are lying with the friendly dead!

by Leon Gellert

Other poems of LEON GELLERT (81)

Comments (2)

I can feel your pain from your poems. I love your way of writing. You write like I do, from very painful memories. Writing has helped me so much to deal with my ugly past. Warmest Regards, Donna
You write it as if from personal experience. That is what makes this poem one of a kind! Thank you for touching my heart with this poem. Love, Cecilie