Oh! Ignominy of a great defeat,
The breaking of a thousand, thousand hearts,
Each hope and dream that now lies obsolete,
In mud and murk beneath some wicked stars.
When heroes who have sweated, strived, and lost
Must trudge home beaten from a riven field,
The sorrow that it brings, and oh! The cost
To to every soul whose prayers have been repealed.
And ah the long and weary months until
Redemption, may be plotted, tried, and won,
Unwholesome taste it leaves, a bitter pill,
Because we know for now the deed is done.
We shall not drink at the great bowl sublime,
But Niners, thou shalt taste of it next time!
The breaking of a thousand, thousand hearts,
Each hope and dream that now lies obsolete,
In mud and murk beneath some wicked stars.
When heroes who have sweated, strived, and lost
Must trudge home beaten from a riven field,
The sorrow that it brings, and oh! The cost
To to every soul whose prayers have been repealed.
And ah the long and weary months until
Redemption, may be plotted, tried, and won,
Unwholesome taste it leaves, a bitter pill,
Because we know for now the deed is done.
We shall not drink at the great bowl sublime,
But Niners, thou shalt taste of it next time!
It still hurts, but reading your poem makes me feel like I'm not alone. Aye we be beaten by The Giants of the Earth......sad.....Neal
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