L'Arena
At night, without a prayer
They put her in the ground
And dark and silence there
Did ring the place around.
And so for all eternity
condemned with dry formality.
All you who seek the good
Reflect on that disgrace
Laid like a cord of wood
In some forgotten place.
Today beside the box you stride
Tomorrow on the bier you ride.
But good men, it is said
Have left the grave behind
And fairness, virtue may be dead
But something is assigned
To walk the cold and lonely way
Toward hope - through vengeance - and the day.