A Hero's Last Stand

The light at the end of the tunnel
Beckoned him once more.
He anxiously waited for his turn,
Like so many times before.
As his teammates each took the stage,
He inched closer to the door.
Then stepping into the spotlight again,
Heard the crescendo of the crowd's roar.

Like a Modern Gladiator,
He was dressed from head to toe.
His armor was his helmet and pads,
His legacy held in tow.
He hesitated in acknowledgment,
Basked in the moment's glow.
Before him stood his comrades,
Across stood his foe.

He fought a mighty battle,
Led one fierce final charge.
In the end, though bruised and rattled,
His stature loomed ever large.
When the dust had finally cleared,
His team had failed to win.
Still the crowd stood and cheered,
Their beloved hero again.

He graciously shook the hands of those,
He'd bowed to in defeat.
In the stands his fans all rose,
The stadium was on its feet.
As he left the field of play,
Those on both teams stopped.
Removed their helmets in respect,
To honor the man at the top.

The darkness of the tunnel,
Beckoned him once more.
He limped his way, helmet in hand,
His body battered and sore.
At the threshold of his departure,
He acknowledged those he adored.
He waived his helmet one last time,
And stepped through history's door.

The light within the tunnel,
Welcomed him once more.
He walked alone,
Toward his new home,
And never played anymore.


Copyright © November 2010
Kevin Mooney

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