Did drip,
- the zealots blood -
when engines did array,
on Masada hill
that day.
Rebellion,
tho' long overdue,
beneath the Roman yoke,
. . . in isolation broke.
Last bastion
of oppréssed folk. What unified demeanour gave
them up to be a Roman slave ?
How can resistance
- in their eyes -
reduce them thus
. . . the world despise ?
Can bring to me
the longest day
when women . . .
children . .
did he slay ?
Not yet
awhile . . . we think it's done.
. . On that stark hill that stands alone.
Four Heavens lighted up,
and yet,
In consequence . .
In suffering . .
Did one so fearless
then as fret.
Smote fearlessly
the one before
- the one last held
the winning straw ?
As ramparts built
upon the shore
of this poor isle . . .
. . . . . . Masada!
Did drip,
- the zealots blood -
when engines did array,
on Masada hill
that day.
Rebellion,
tho' long overdue,
beneath the Roman yoke,
. . . in isolation broke.
Last bastion
of oppréssed folk. What unified demeanour gave
them up to be a Roman slave ?
How can resistance
- in their eyes -
reduce them thus
. . . the world despise ?
Can bring to me
the longest day
when women . . .
children . .
did he slay ?
Not yet
awhile . . . we think it's done.
. . On that stark hill that stands alone.
Four Heavens lighted up,
and yet,
In consequence . .
In suffering . .
Did one so fearless
then as fret.
Smote fearlessly
the one before
- the one last held
the winning straw ?
As ramparts built
upon the shore
of this poor isle . . .
. . . . . . Masada!
