Poetry

---

As I lay dying, as I lay still
Will you still remember me my blood spilled?
What will become of those soldiers the ones gambling until
One of them wins the dice toss
For my seamless garment woven and twilled?
While you and for them
I suffer my life loss
Yes even the gambling soldiers at the foot of my cross
With dying eyes I watch as they huddle among your throng
And with gasping breath I draw as their game goes on
The cursing and cheering of soldiers and throng
Ring in my ears on and on
Someone will win tonight
Someone will win a prize don’t you see?
Tonight there will be victory on this hill
To the victor go the spoils, the pride, and the thrill
They win a piece of me; they take home a part of me
When the dice lie still

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE