Ista Quidem Vis Est? Before The Ides Of March

Damn you, Caesar, and damn your dirty claim

that we should make you emperor and god;

that we should live and worship in your name,

and scatter laurels where you might have trod.

 

You ask this old Republic to accept

yourself as its dictator and divine

patron.  You have made yourself quite adept

at hiding motives---yours are most malign.

 

I pray that some disgusting, foul disease

will strike you down, with slow, hard agonies

so that, soon and hereafter, every breath

you draw will be a scream for quickened death.

 

I pray that you be damned with every shame;

and, where your ashes fall will damn the sod.

 

Starward

 

 

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