Ilium, the monster
is dead at last;
its people lay corpses upon the ground
and we pound our victory into them with fire
as we raze their homes to shrapnel and ash.
We can leave, yes,
but it's been seven years of waste
of absence from dear Penelope and my son
and there's no comfort in the women of Ilium
nothing in the barren wasteland we've made,
nothing in the beautiful Helen's eyes
that makes me think
this was worth all the death
for her.
Penelope is not so gorgeous but she is mine
and she would never betray me
and I love her more than my own life,
so why have I left her alone in our empty palace,
while I chase after Menelaus' erstwhile bride?
Poseidon, you hate me for what I've done
for who I've slain,
and I do as well, but I must return home
so I ask for your blessing.
Let me see Penelope again.
YOU ARE READING
Lyre
PoetryA book of poems, mostly connecting to Greek mythology. If there's a myth of any culture you'd like to see a poem for, PM me and I'll see what I can do! . . . who else will tell of the broken heroes, myths that never spoke to hearts like yours and mi...
