Unquiet Desperation
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Author Topic: Byron the Greek  (Read 1066 times)
Pater
Galileo Galilei
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Posts: 672


Pressed wrong button in p'port photo booth...


« on: May 18, 2013, 02:15:24 AM »

That Greek goddess
the people claim as their own,
in marble or alabaster sheen,
keeps her laurel wreath for me,
my dream to save her from
the cannon and marauding horde.
There is an iron in her eyes
and her people I adore.
My blood all red I will lay down,
kiss her pale lips into life.

I have a soul and fire to leave
should death wear my night-gown,
I have a musket and a speech,
a lyric for a lyre to follow me
if it is the rubble at her feet
I am found; with other men,
reddened handkerchiefs gripped
in rigoured hands. My army,
my own army for Aphrodite.

by Pater
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