Finale

The pitch was set, trimmed and rolled
The green grass slain and levelled
The crowd gathers, the players assemble
Tense is the captain, for his finale
May he be hailed and carried by his team
Champion!, the crowd would scream
A legend, none would replace for centuries!’
A great loss to the sport, cynics would chime
Setting down at his peak and glory
In the hope of timeless reminiscence
Stepped and stamped over and over
Till the earth beneath her bled raw
Watching her nurtured saplings crushed,
The crippled green fairy wept for her vines
Nourished and tendered to with freedom
Spread without forethought and limits
For she had forgotten the land was owned
She and her greens mere transient silhouette
As the land would hail the captain’s grand exit
Hoots and cheers would drown her tormented wail.
She would again spread her vines once more
For her sacrifice is the unspoken law.
The crucifix was nailed long before the finale.