The god of sleep from slumber wakes
Now tied to tree his dreadful fate.
His form is stripped of royal cloak
In field where pride of god was broke.
Against the binds he struggles hard
But skin of god the ropes now charred.
A rasping cry divine let out
Then follows quick with raging shout.
"Who dares to pull this trick on sleep!
Who seeks to put to slumber deep.
The world of men and also gods
What idiot rebel world now trods!?"
From hidden place the hero speaks
To answer god now rendered weak.
"Now thrice foreboding force has crept
Inside my head while hero slept.
And once on hero mischief wrought.
The death of kin that trial brought!
You'll pay the price for families death
For love that hero's left bereft!
With ancient lore I pladed ropes
And filled them full of vilest hopes!
From thirst for vengeance dreams were born
To see the god of sleep be torn
And made a fool in eyes of men
To make him pay for gravest sin!
I'll bring the whole of world to glade
To laugh at god now naked laid!"
And face of god became so pale
On hearing wrath that reason fails.
To turn aside nor underscore
Though anger leads to choices poor.
" But wait!" He cried in deepest fear.
"The words of god I beg you hear!
I knew not mischief came in sleep
When hero layed in slumber deep.
For godling let me grant a boon
To stop his plan to bring my doom.
No longer will the hero need
To follow rule that gods decreed.
To grant me half his living hours
And give himself to Somnus powers.
Instead be woke for all the day
And cease to give the god his pay."
For long the hero fails to talk
And Somnus fears the godling balks.
At deal he struck to save his face
In front of feeble human race.
"I need a further boon from god
The dreaming king that night does trod.
If need should come to journey realm
Where dead now walk and over whelm.
That god of dreams becomes my guide
To help me darkest realm abide.
So swear these things on river Styx
That ancient dreadful sweeping crick."
And god did swear to hero's terms
In hopes a dreadful vengeance spurn.
Once lose from tree he outward pours
The sands that grants him mortals chore.
Of nightly sleep that men do owe
To god of dreams in dark abode.
"This sand's your portion demi-god
Alone in mortal realm you trod.
As one who needs no restful sleep
And all the day the hero keeps.
I call this place the dreaming glade
Where sand of hero's down been laid."
Today it's said that all who rest
Inside that clearing have the best
Most restful peace in world of man
And fear no harm nor mortal hand.
YOU ARE READING
Hercules and his Twelve Labors
Short StoryHercules must perform twelve labors to appease the Greek gods. Written in a fun sing songy style this poem tells the story of the Greek Demi-god Hercules, who is convicted of murder by the gods of Olympus. His patron goddess Hera convinces the other...
