ichor ¡ poetry

By ladyinburgundy

180 1 0

words are immortal, they bleed gold. More

¡ a note ¡
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iv.

13 0 0
By ladyinburgundy


iv. patroclus

His name spills from Greece’s greatest warrior in a plea,

A desperate cry that reached the ears of the gods at the bottom of the sea.

Battle-roughened hands are clasped in prayer,

Mournful tears escaping eyes the color of spring skies.

The strongest soldier falls apart right before his comrades’ very eyes,

Patroclus, Patroclus, Patroclus,

Achilles calls for his lover in repeat,

I’ll avenge your death,

He promises as he rises to his feet.

The mighty Hector, prince of Troy, stares in paralyzed fear,

As he sets his eyes upon the man he can never hope to defeat.

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