They say,
A mighty warrior
is worth their pain,
but we all know
that those who hurt
hurt others.
Golden Achilles, hair flowing,
bloodied, but never battered.
He wishes for death, but it will not come.
“Hector,” he says.
“Hector,” he screams.
“Hector,” he wails.
The funeral pyre still burns into the night;
but Achilles has no time to mourn
(it’s all he seems to do)
though endless bloodshed
quells the thoughts
that storm around his mind.
Hector will die,
Hector will be dragged through the dust.
Hector will pay for causing pain,
And Achilles can finally die;
an arrow to the heel,
is all that stops
a monster.
