Poetry
2 min
A Spartan's Cruel Existence
Gabriel Toupin
My seventh year was a dark day.
The clouds were blocking the sun.
I was taken away from home.
My life's training had begun.
I was trapped in the Agoge.
My fam'ly I could not see.
Nobody pitied my beatings.
"Submit to all," they taught me.
My spirit was broken in two,
As my body was made strong.
I grew in strength and stamina,
Scared the whipping would last long.
Hunger always gnawed my stomach.
My rations were very small.
I learned how to steal to survive,
But was beat if caught at all.
I was forced to fight my own peers,
In games of "glory" and strength.
Some of those I counted as friends,
Failed and were whipped at great length.
The memory will never fade,
Of the day my best friend died.
He was skewered in mock battle.
I was laughed at when I cried.
Then, my struggles began to shrink,
As my status and strength grew.
I was put in charge of many.
What I ordered, they would do!
I kept my rank several years,
While waiting to reach the age,
Of admission to the army,
Where my life would turn a page.
On my first day of acceptance,
The rigorous drills began.
They were a test of endurance,
Like none I had ever ran.
The years started to hasten by,
As the days became like one.
Always practicing for battle,
Ev'ryday, until it was done.
Ten years passed until the news came;
My city had gone to war.
We were deployed to the battle.
I will never forget the gore.
I found myself in the fight's core,
With not a friend at my side.
My vision turned red and faded,
As my foes' blades pierced my hide.
I laid there on the battlefield,
Waiting and wishing to die.
My life was played out before me.
I observed and questioned, "why?"
"Why were hopes and dreams blotted out,
While growth through pain was rushed in?"
"Why was I forced to stoop to theft,
Which those of honor call sin?"
"Why did I have to fight my friend,
And why was his shield not raised,
To combat the thrust of my spear,
Of which I was later praised?"
"Why was I so quick to punish,
Those boys placed under my rule?"
"I could have dealt with them kindly,
Instead of becoming cruel."
"Why did I submit to the life,
Of a soldier doing drills?"
"I wasted my entire life."
"I should have run to the hills!"
"Why did I choose to stay and fight,
When my comrades called retreat?"
"Why did I think I owed Sparta,
My last moments on my feet?"
Then I saw someone over me,
And recognized my best friend,
"It does not matter now," he said,
"For we each have met our end."
So, I faded into darkness,
And achieved some peace at last.
My freedom had been accomplished.
All of my regrets were past.
We Love Sharing Short Stories
Select a Story Collection
478