For sure, I felt the call of gods on high
While reaching forward, smiling from my teeth,
I glanced out far and watched the fading sky,
And left the sword within its leather sheath.
The blood had leaked and left the stains of shame;
My steely boldness poured out like the rain.
Are these the moments I will swallow fame
And feel it seep into my weakened veins?
The smiles that once had lit my eyes and face
Now fall and cry and want to scream
They’re gone; they’ve left their home without a trace.
Now lost, I wander, losing faith in dreams.
A shadow falls across my weathered skin,
There’ll be no law, no prayers, no right to choose.
The gods will sigh, absolving me from sin,
Like Tyson’s fall, Goliath’s death, I’ll lose.
“That’s it,” I think, “I’ve really lost the race.”
I’ve lost my dream, and now I’ve lost my head,
So all I’ll do is slow my changing pace
And say with solemn tones, “I’m gone, I’m dead.”
Natalie Patrone’s ‘ElegBlog Comment Creation Guidey for Pogačar’ captures a haunting stillness—like a warrior’s last moment of reflection before surrendering to fate. The imagery of the unsheathed sword and fading sky left me wondering whether this is about an actual figure or a metaphor for personal struggle or loss. Either way, it’s beautifully open to interpretation.