On the return of the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem
(The Holy Bible, 2 Samuel 6)
The break of day applauds triumphant throngs
Of men, screaming the win deliriously;
A shattered army freed, exposed in songs:
Cacophony resounds harmoniously.
And I, King David, shed my golden frock
Into the dust; I follow through the streets
The blood-soaked spoil, which bonds our limping flock
And dancers herald in with stronger beats.
But lost behind the triumph are the bone
And flesh remains of our fallen children
And enemies; their bodies once were thrown
Savagely with screams on that prize, gilden.
So now our chorus looses screams of pride
And my feet trip lightly, undignified.
