Author's Note: My attempt at putting into poetry this tragic story. The events may not follow everyone's version of the story, but I have mixed up the many versions to my own liking. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

The Sacrifice of Iphigenia

Still winds taunt the many sails

Sending only small breaths of air

Unable to be caught by the beaked ships,

Waiting idly in the bay.

Iphigenia shivers by the shore

The daughter of Agamemnon

innocent and beautiful

wishing only for peace.

The great Achilles, yet but a youth

watches her from the high cliffs

wondering why she seems so fair

and why she looks so cold.

Calchas sees her also

and he knows her doom is near

For greedy Agamemnon

will value glory above his daughter.

As the seer whispers these words to the King

Atrides' face contorts in fury;

how can a father sacrifice his daughter,

though it would win him great renown?

He says he will not:

The winds may be forever still

but he will not, by any means

give up Iphigenia to the Gods.

Yet as the days draw on,

words begin to spread

and things are said

of the frailty of the King.

Then Agamemnon, deep in debate

chooses at last the course of glory

and summons Iphigenia to him,

Telling none of his true intent.

The swift Achilles is summoned also

and he is told by the messengers

that he is to wed the fair Iphigenia

so gladly does he come.

Queen Clytemnestra,

Still unknowing of her daughter's fate

dresses her in fair white garments

suitable for the marriage of one so fair.

Iphigenia makes her way

into the throng of people

smiling at the great Achilles

seeing the worthiest warrior in him.

But it was not her fate to wed

For now does the cruel Agamemnon

reveal his treacherous design

as Iphigenia is taken to the altar.

And Achilles seeing this

is filled with burning rage

for the lies that were used

to lead one so innocent to death.

He prepares to draw his sword

to defend Iphigenia from her fate

But before he can, hands are laid upon him

swearing to take his life if he saves hers.

He would have fought against them

Were it not for the tearful pleas

of the kindly Iphigenia, being led away.

She looked upon Achilles and she spoke:

"Do not fret for me, great Achilles,

For I will gladly give up my life

To the immortal Gods

for so noble a cause."

Achilles sheaths his sword,

though he knows she lies

and watches her step up to the altar

as Agamemnon veils his eyes.

The knife is lifted by Calchas.

Her last sight is of Achilles.

Red blood trickles down her neck

And the winds begin to blow.