A Geometric Dream

Theirs not to make reply, 
Theirs not to reason why, 
Theirs but to do & die, 
Into the valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred. 

-      Alfred, Lord Tennyson
1809-1892

A Geometric dream

It was war

War it was, that drove him on all his life

War it was that finally drove him over the edge

He remember only war and the destruction that it wrought

He remembered not that he spake to his country a pledge

Blood, gore, madness had filled his head for years

He saw things which man could never dream

It was bound to happen sooner or later

It happened one night, he woke up with a scream

His soldiers knew not why,

They were too afraid to ask

But from that night on, their leader, it seemed

Had torn off his humane  mask

No longer would he pretend to have ideals

No longer would he pretend to care

He had no humanity left in him

Let any test that theory if they dare

He was in a war to kill

That’s what he’d been trained to do

He would do it, and do it well,

He was his enemy’s worst fear come true

He fought hard and dirty

Wreaked havoc of massive scale

None reported his doings

For none lived to tell the tale

But fate caught up at last

His time on earth was through

For his acts of maddened killing

He now had to pay his due

He slept that night soundly

Clear as crystals was his vision

It arrived in his mind unbidden

But with eagle eyed precision

A geometric dream it is called

A concept not known to all

It can spur man to great deeds

Or it can lead to his downfall

In one night’s sleep he saw

The very essence of the world

He saw where he was headed

He saw how his life unfurled

It was not his creation

It could not have been his own

But now that it was there it could not be forgotten

The seeds of hell had been sown

He awoke, all knowing, all seeing

His mind knew only one path

It led him inevitably down the road

And all in the way felt his wrath

He was a general, a leader elect

He commanded a troop of six hundred men

They were ready to lay down their lives

He only had to tell them when

They trusted him more than themselves

For he had never led them astray

He wielded now this power he had

They had no choice but to obey

He was told by his superior

To make sure his men hold their ranks

Just long enough till the time was right

Then attack from either flank

He cared no longer for orders

He now served a higher cause

There would be no life for men tomorrow

In his march there would be no pause

He knew humanity was doomed

He knew this fact full well

When man reached what he considered heaven

He would pray he’d gone to hell

He wished death upon himself

And on those he valued most

And of every living being on earth

His men always came foremost

And so it was decided by him

He would not die alone

He would take the life of the very men

Of whom so fond he’d grown

But a cowards death would not do

His men did not deserve deceit

Their honor could not be compromised

Even when their end they meet

He rallied his troops, onward they went

He filled in them a passion unmatched

Now six hundred rode to fulfill

A plan that in his sleep was hatched

They rode straight into the heart of the enemy

None knew what awaited them that day

None but him, their maddened chief

All they could do was pray

And then in one dreadful moment they saw

That their preparation had been in vain

So great was the sea of men before them

They’d never live to see the sun rise again

But so great was their faith

So dear to them their honor

They wavered not by their chief’s side

Even when confronted by this horror

They hacked, they sawed

They cut, they clawed

They fought like none had fought before

But look where they might

Everywhere in sight

For each dead man, there were ten more

Valiant men in their prime

Whose bravery was unmatched

Had fallen victim to their general’s crime

And been ruthlessly dispatched

Not many were left to see the view

For most were already dead

But the extraordinary few, who made it through

Saw only visions of red

Their compatriots, their mates

Their brothers, their sons

Lay dead to the world

Deformed by guns

Some were maddened in these last moments

Their hearts could not bear the dread

Others accepted death with honor

And smiled at the man who severed their head

But no smile could rival his

The man who was the cause of it all

He stood convinced that into place

Every piece in his plan would fall

He feared no more the concept of death

Fear to him was a thing of the past

It could be this very fearlessness

That helped him survive to the last

At last he looked upon the fields

And saw each of his men had perished

None were left of the six hundred

Of whose so many memories he cherished

His job was done, his time had come

And none would go as peacefully as him

He gazed one last time upon the world

And in that moment, his face was grim

He saw his enemy, remembered his friends

To one and all he bade goodbye

He jumped into the midst of chaos

And thus, on his own terms, did he die

Men don’t know this story

They knew not what had transpired

For all had perished on that day

Long before the last shot was fired

So they did what all men do

They made up a heroic tale to tell

For man always concocts a legend

To hide a concept he doesn’t understand well

And so it happened that this man

By whose hand six hundred had died

Was made a hero by clueless men

And all told his tale with pride.