Pax (Not really slang. Dang uneducated spell checker)

**Sorry it's so super-long. It's my longest one in a WHILE!

It's dark, and I hear the owl.
The candlelight is dim.
Mom just keeps whispering.
Her face is bony and thin.

"We have to get him, Son.
It's for our family.
Look at all these letters.
The whole city-state agrees.

"You were born for greatness,
not he. He is not your friend.
You know that his time is coming,
And you'll put him to his end.

"He's only caused a mess of terror,
even to Pompey of stone.
His face is cracked and faded.
He stands forgotten--alone.

"But not he. He wears a garland
and a crown of ivy leaves
as he gives our jobs to foreigners
and all our food to thieves.

"He's wept many times before our eyes.
He's not as strong as you.
As of the Ides of March, dear Brute,
that Caesar he is through!

Cassius and all the others--
All they need is you.
They're waiting at your door
to plan just what to do."

They were robed and hooded in brown,
and Portia was questioning them.
I could see her lovely eyes,
and her figure: tall and slim.

"What brings you at this hour?
No, he is not home.
Yes, I'm aware of how late it is,
Why has left me alone?"

I could see the hollow fear
Sitting on her eyes.
Her hair rested upon her head.
Her voice was scabby and dry.

"I'm here, dear Portia, and
I'll see you in the morn.
Right now just hunker down
and cover from the storm."

I kissed her forehead slowly
and sent her in the house.
I hadn't made her feel better.
A big frown lined her mouth.

I and Cassius's crew talked and talked all night
and got it all planned out.
We walked far away and whispered
so SHE wouldn't hear a sound.

Months and months later the fifteenth day had dawned.
My fear had all been choked down.
My inhibitions were gone.

I floated to the Senate floor
in the steps of Metellus Cimber.
Chills crawled up my spine,
though it just past winter.

All eyes gaped at a hunching leader
as Casca took the first step,
and we all followed (me last),
and we ensured our oath was kept.

Caesar fell at our feet
with a gasp heard 'round the world.
He was like Alexander after all--
He died young holding Greece's Curl.