The Statue of Spartacus,

At the Festival of Centauro

2020.10.12, by Spartacus
Filed under Literature, Poetry

Cut off from the thread of life
I don’t know what to do.
Children run past,
and I want to smile at them, but
The frozen road stops here,
and I stand at the edge, watching.
The wheel of the year keeps turning, and
I’m stuck here
Watching, spectating.

I am not even a referee.
Why was I born? Why do I exist?
They dance round the wheel, and the fires of the stars go up, into the night…
Even if the road stops here, I must
step into the light and
Make myself as hard as real as a boulder amongst men, and walk amongst them
And maybe this stony flesh
will turn into blood and living flesh
Of a man, a man who never existed, but…
A man who came into being
Amongst men…