A
bloody battle soon ensued
On
the plain of Illium.
The
Akhaians came one thousand fold.
To
take the city and her gold.
Curses
and plagues flowed through the Greek camp
As
gods played with mice and men.
The
weakness of their great champion
Wasn’t
only his heel.
Bloody
stalemate caused red waterfalls
The
fell to Hades’ land.
Pyres burned day
and night
Because
of the week foot’s stubborn ways.
Achilles,
the man with fragile heel
Pouted
in his tent
Because
his precious trophy was taken away.
He
stayed there
Like
the man of marble that he was.
Even
with his brothers’ cries
He
just wouldn’t break.
But
then the cracks began to show
When
his Petroklos
Was
carried to Hades’ hated den.
“Alas,
Poor Petroklos!”
They
cried in torment.
“Hero
to us all.”
“While
ours was pouting in his tent”
“Only
he answered his brother’s call.”
So
Achilles went
To
challenge the horse trainer Hector.
“No
prayers from you to me.”
He
said as he desecrated his body.
Achilles
dragged Hector across Illium’s great plain
Never
once to let up
Priam’s
pleading went unheard
So
the gods had to intervene.
Achilles
relented.
They
had their funeral pyre.
It
was an arrow from the Trojan prince’s hand
That
helped him follow Hector down to that god-forsaken land.
A
crafty island king and his wooden horse
Brought
the city’s final end.
