CENTURION

 (written in the voice of the pilgrim from Jade-Pandora’s poem DELPHI)

Centurion, the name a cutting lash,
So Citizen, Legate, and Consul, too
This knotted cord of names tore years away.
Yet gaining these was all he would pursue,
These vain pursuits reduced his soul to ash.

He learned the power that all names portray,
In orders made that men should die or kill.
Judgements dispersed but never mercy shown,
He spoke their names to execute his will.
To speak their names, he takes their lives away.

Betrayed by every name he’d ever known,
Turning his back on whatever remained,
He took the faded robes and pilgrim’s road
To find the missing soul his name contained,
From hermit’s cave to shaman’s seeing stone.

To Artemis in Ephesus, he rode,
Shown in that temple priestesses’ visit,
His prophet’s march to test the Delphi’s fame.  
He walked and, though his questions seemed unfit,
This meeting was with every step foretold.

At last, he knew the reason that he came,
In her first sight, he knew she held his soul.
One question asked, and he would know her whole.
As he approached, he knew he held no claim,
Yet held her eyes and spoke, “What is your name?”