I wrote this poem for my English class, with the full intention of publishing it here. ;) I was doing a creative project on the Trojan War, and this was one of my sections. It's from the POV of Astyanax, Hector's young son, who was thrown off the walls to prevent him from growing up and trying to exact revenge for the obliviation of his home and the murder of his father.
Please read and review! Thanks! :)
Safe arms-
my mother, Andromache-
are torn away.
The high-crested war helmets
surround my body.
Mother's screams fill my ears,
they can't block those.
Her supplications
futile.
I am lost.
Up the stairs,
a place I've known my entire life
now charred and frightening.
Whistling winds
caress the high wall
where many deaths were mourned.
By bruising hands
I am lifted.
Breezes tickle my face
then the rush
slams like a fist
into my belly.
I soar
comparable to an eagle
flying on the left side.
I have no wings
I am a second Icarus.
Pain unbearable.
Two figures walk
from the fields of battle.
One dark, cloaked,
the other familiar.
I step from my broken body.
Father kisses away
my tears.
No more ships.
No more fires.
No more crying.
Father does not wear
His awful crested helmet.
I know
I am safe again.
There you go. I hope you enjoyed it. I can't really use exclamation points right now... they're too happy for this poem. R&R.
