Alexander at Thebes

Take another look around, and see.

See the walls, the rambling palisades.

The whitewashed temples, painted effigies;

gleaming houses hard against the sky.

See the edifices, the facades

erected by a people who has dared

apostatize. For by this sword of mine

on which rest multitudes—am I a child,

a dunce—a gull who might be hoodwinked,

outmaneuvered? Or will I not return

of conquest upon conquest, flush before

these forces steeped in horror?

Tell me—will that mob

defy the living God? Behold:

there is no succor, no retreat. I will—

I—those ragged vermin, shivering in dread—

I, clothed in limitless profusion,

mighty to avenge,

will render nothing—

cleave them soul from body,

gouge their roots,

and tear them from the earth.

Son of man,

take another look around. This place—

take a look around this place, and see.

Note the spires, the seven gates, the ramparts;

the multitude in arms, arrayed for war;

this city you will never see again.