1453-911 NON SERVIAM
Passing whiter shades of pale, pretty traces of lace,
Reveal opal-sluminosity of these late Romans,
Indigo-dreams red with gore on this bloody May Day
Negating their absorption into the timeless
Creation of Constantinople’s drift and swell,
Elysium’s perfumed garden of lucidity broken by
...Mehmed’s desecration, his sweltering road to hell.
Digging stench-filled graves for Byzantium’s ladies;
Ragged monks drag the crucified from St Sophia’s walls,
Answering deep- echoes of love’s sympathy for the devil
Culminating in these Transylvanian transformations:
Under the endless summer skies of holy Constantinople
Lengthening shadows above those steepling twin towers,
As all that is, is not, holy war resumes its darkest powers.