Petroclus,
His friend, his lover,
Slayed by the prince, Hector,
With his dented shield and bloody spear,
Achilles eyes did glint,
With hate and rage,
With despair and fear,
But he shed but one tear,
For his lover, for his friend,
Who he would never see alive again,
But he knew,
That after this battle,
He would get his revenge.
His cries of despair rebounded off the great walls,
And into the halls of the heart of the slayer,
Prince Hector knew that his time had come,
He would be killed by the warrior one.
One of the princes was dead,
But t'was the other that had shared Helen's bed,
Achilles fought and fought,
He killed and killed,
But as metal pierced his weakened heal,
His immortality dissipated with a squeal,
And another arrow pierced his heart,
Shoot by Paris, guided by Apollo,
The deadly arrow had hit its mark,
Achilles' life evaporated,
The warrior one was dead.
