Cassandra of Troy
Oh great city of Troy. Her walls have been burned to the ground and her people know scurry upon the dusty soil in futile attempts to hide from the new conquerors from Greece. Oh dear father, my visions hath worn ye so, now look, your sons have fallen to Greek spears. Hector's ashes blow in the wind whilst the bones of dear Paris are left for the vultures to be plucked clean.
The streets stained scarlet with the tears of blood and Hellenic soldiers grow fat upon devouring Trojan guts. A beast forged of wood, has thus entered the haven of our city and gobbled us all. Oh great Apollo what is to become of the rest of us...
Wilde thrashing and wailing enveloped the young maiden princess as the god she lived to serve, the god that gave her the divine gift of prophesies. The god who loved her but was scorn by her rejection shed light upon the shadows of the future.
Wide eyed
We who remain are left, stripped from our country. Broken. Beaten. Bruised. Raped. Disgraced. Humiliated. And wildly scavenging for food, like the sick disease ridden cures these Greek swine make us to be.
And I Apollo's servant is to become a victim, a common whore for a common king. Slain by his unfaithful bride. Oh thou retched tyrant, I am too disgraced thus. Oh mother, dear queen Hecuba of Troy, this is how me your only daughter Cassandra am to fall. Come quickly hence winds of Zephyrus, hoist the sail and my Poseidon bless the gurney to Athens so Thanatos may seize me quickly.
Goodbye dear city, you lay know in ruin. Buried in soot and sand because of stupid brother Paris, he who could not resist the urge to claim Helen whom was already claimed by Menelaus king of Sparta. Goodbye sister Andromache, wife of brother Hector and mother of the soon to be slain infant prince Astyanax. Goodbye dear mother Hecuba and dear father Priam make hast for me for I will join you in Hades soon after. Oh how I fear for my surviving country women, Greek slave traders shall surly whip them so the Furies become jealous and the rest of the damned shall wince at the sound of their agony and think that the tortures of Hell are a dance through the crimson poppies. Oh, Apollo how you have cursed me so. I your most loyal of servants am to feel the wrath of the gods in such a way. I give you my last prophesy, a day will come when the gods of Olympus shall fall and be seen as nothing more than barbaric fairytales. Although your names, faces and deeds will be remembered for thousands of years you will only hold sway over the imagination. A new God will fill your place and he will bring love and light into this world, the people will love and worship him while you will slip into obscurity. The reign of Olympus shall end forever. Content that the gods who have cursed her now know their fate, the fallen princess Cassandra lays, her arms spread wide apart waiting for what is to come next. And know I lay in wait. May mi prophases come true.