All about me I remember,
The warrior, the wise teacher,
The prophets gazing at the stars,
The reddish vivid glow of Mars -
And I'm reminded of their muscular form;
Thick-skinned and proud, one born
To the region of Magnesia or Mount Pelion,
An army of spears sharp and long.

From every side they came,
The longbow with steady aim,
The warriors pointed silver swords,
The hoofbeats pounding came towards.
Then, I closed my eyes and awaited death,
Icy-cold and dark, the breath
Of my lungs heavy in my chest,
A befitting end to a perilous quest.

Expectant people packed into stands
their voices issuing a rallying cry
as players take to the pitch
sporting a new season kit
for the last game
wishing to salvage a smidgen of pride
from a lacklustre campaign
it's come down to this
a moment that will determine the future of a club
the radio's are readied
held in unsteady hands