vii. Helen
he called me beautiful, said I was
to be his queen. told me
he would fight a war for me, as if
I cared for the battlefield vanities
of men. I know that I am beautiful.
I am true north, and he
a compass needle, unable to point
anywhere but at me.
he cried out with desperate tongue,
"look at her.
see the woman I have won."
they all point at me. they all bow,
grovel
at my feet.
they will continue to do so
even after they are dead, but I
will live on,
polar, fixed, unchanging.
ESTÀS LLEGINT
The Rhythm of Immortality
PoesiaA collection of poems taken from various writers on tumblr all pertaining to Greek Mythology. The majority of them are based in modern times.
