Fortuna

Did your mind turn to her in that hour?
When you saw the walls begin to give way,
under the relentless firepower,
did you offer a prayer to her that day?
Fortuna, fair Goddess of your city,
Cast aside and ignored so long ago…
Did you hope, perhaps, to gain her pity,
and now, in your need, her blessings bestow?
With a flourish of that fair divine hand,
her light could through the dark clouds of war
and strike the enemy swarming your land
sweep them away, and divine peace restore!
Or did you call Mighty Jupiter’s name,
to beg he save his people one more time?
Or did you cling the new faith in vain,
and become the very last of your line?
A prayer, an utterance, or a word
breathed to Fortuna to invoke her aid
and the Gods, with great zeal, would have returned,
forgiving the people for having strayed…

If only, Emperor, you gave it thought,
and with repenting supplications sought
aid for your people from the Gods of old,
How differently this story would be told:
As the walls tumbled, you cast off your crown,
tore off your garments, threw them to the ground,
and with one last defiant battle cry,
you rushed with your men,  to fight and to die.
No shrine or marker to denote your grave
in the renamed city you tried to save.
Now we must mark this day every year
with sorrowful thoughts, and eyes filled with tears
If only you had breathed her name at all,
The last of Rome would not have had to fall.