I like to think,
as soot fell from the sky
and ashes rained down,
they grappled where they lay,
in throes of lust
and dismay.

I like to think
they breathed their last as they lay
enshrouded in smoke
within the walls of Pompeii.

I like to wonder
under what Vesuvian cloud
will we find
our inevitable doom?
They would not have known
before the call to alarm
carried man, woman, child
to harbor and down
into the boats that bore them away
beneath a smoldering sky.

Still, I like to think that they lie
in some Pompeiian scene intertwined,
limbs entangled as they recline
on a bed of stone amidst the demise.
That those who pass
can almost hear their sighs
and look and see
the light in their eyes.

“Wreck of Ages” — Notes on the poem

I got the idea for this poem one night as I was falling asleep — the final stanza came to me, to be exact. I wrote it a while back, but thought I would finally share it here. If you enjoyed this poem, you might enjoy another classically inspired number of mine — “Where the Wind Blows From Far Away,” which also happens to be featured in my short story and poetry collection Metamorphosis.

I’d love to hear in the comments what you thought of this poem and if it conjured any images for you! Thank you so much for reading. I’m currently in-between drafts of a fantasy novel and will be posting some backlogged material here sporadically during the next month.

A beautiful sunset over the ruin of Pompeii…

sunset over pompeii
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