La Mort de Mon Amour, Submission 4 by Lee Martin

Twenty-one of October, the year 1805,
To God, prayer from men that they still were alive.
I praise you, I love you, I weep for this man,
But for France, I remember I must do what I can.

Victory, Roy’ Sovereign, Euryaius, Defence
Vs. Redoutable, Héros, Pluton, and Hortense.

Yours twenty-seven, white canvas and sea,
Outweighted, by the numbers, from our thirty-three.
Prediction, they say, your success quick will be,
Triumphant for London, but violent for we.

“A Hero,” “A Saint,” “An Inspiring Name,”
Sans arm, minus eye, and a ballet-like frame.

Hand over hand up the ratlines crawl I
“Observe,” ordered he, “watch, listen and spy.”
Ensuing conflict brought mayhem to the day,
Cannon, commands, all a handsome display.

You halve our ship’s compliment and cut down our chances.
Endure: for your men, but cause-ending for France’s.

I have but one shot, so I carefully aim
For your heart from my heart, for a life bless’d by fame.
Conscience speaks through the sound and debris,
“Be remembered though history--kill Nelson,” says he.

Valediction, My Lord, God bless d'etat,
Your end sure will be my great oeuvre.