A gentle breeze brushes the Spartan’s backs,
Chilling beads of sweat upon their skin.
The Persians ready for their last attack.
The Spartan’s odds were not to win.
Standing boot to boot with all their brothers,
Muted murmurs shown love to one another.
The air was dry and the sun burned hot,
It wasn’t the perfect day to die,
But it was the best they’d got.
Not one of them would cry.
Under the wings of Leonidas,
They were reaching for the sky.
Too bad the sky was full of arrows.
For now, a few of them would die.
There was no more singing for the sparrows,
As the world drowned in fierce war-cries.
The next wave of Xerxes men approached –
The Spartan position, so they would encroach –
To ensure that every single one would die.
After two fulls days of Greek men fighting,
They’d be thankful for their reprieve.
Heavens arms were looking quite inviting,
May their mother’s rest easy in their grief.
From the front advanced 10,000 strong,
From the flank, the Persian’s finest.
The Immortals sought to end their song.
The Spartans sought to prove them spineless.
The first wave of Persians crashed upon their shields,
Spartan spears stabbed, cracked and shattered.
When spears broke, short-swords found hands of the battered.
Until finally through blood, sweat and rage,
A volley of arrows fell to clear the stage.
Nothing but blood, guts and brains remained,
To leave that hallowed Earth completely stained.
The 300 Spartans plus a number of other Greek soldiers, under the leadership of King Leonidas, stayed behind at the passage of Thermopylae and acted as a rear guard for retreating allies. It is estimated that they had saved the lives of around 3000 Greek allies by delaying the Persian advance as those Greek soldiers escaped. May their heroism, courage and selflessness never be forgotten.