Wednesday, quoth annika, is poetry day. Here's one by me.
The Towers of Ilium
When fell the gleaming towers over Troy,
No answer to the Greeks’ deceptive ploy,
Collapsing from within upon the walls,
As stone and timber rained like waterfalls
In deadly showers crashing on those men,
And thousands crossed the Styx to Hades then;
When danced Odysseus on bloody sand
Before his blue-green tent along the strand,
His armor thrown aside, the battle done,
His armor burnished in the low red sun,
His naked dance to Nike, pagan howl,
He guzzled wine of Troy, ate Trojan fowl;
When wept the Trojan virgins in their chains
As Greeks befouled their beds with bridal stains,
As fists tore from their bodies dress and strap,
Then moisture mixed with moisture in the lap,
Those groping warriors, black with sweat and grime,
They mounted, muscles clenching, beating time;
When thrust the burning spears into the vault
Where treasure lay not safe from this assault:
Electrum pieces, emeralds and pearls,
And golden crowns inlaid with ebon swirls,
Pink coral set in silver winding wire,
Blue diamonds that held the light in fire;
Did then the vanquished Trojans blame their fall
On their own fighting back, on standing tall?
Did cowards say, ‘No Greeks would be inside
If we had beaten first our haughty pride;
If we had bowed our heads to best obey,
The Hellenes would have sailed their ships away’?
Such words would have been laughed at as insane
By men who tamed wild horses on the plain.
The Greeks were at the gate, the dogs of war
Unleashed to kill or be killed, nothing more.
No bended knee could stop them at the wall,
For those who will not stand must surely fall.