Pulses and waves
Have their joys across my body.
Son of Aphrodite, he that smites ******* with an unknown Promethean heat.
The delectable wound on my chest marked from his piercing arrow.
Animating force, who's origin is only mumbled in gentle whispers
across my neck.
Shall we build our haven upon him,
Before the Father of The Sea washes us away?
Eros will save our love from the gallows
And forever gleam those beacons in his eyes: The idol of arrows.
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 8:12 AM UTC
Pulses and waves
Have their joys across my body.
Son of Aphrodite, he that smites ******* with an unknown Promethean heat.
The delectable wound on my chest marked from his piercing arrow.
Animating force, who's origin is only mumbled in gentle whispers
across my neck.
Shall we build our haven upon him,
Before the Father of The Sea washes us away?
Eros will save our love from the gallows
And forever gleam those beacons in his eyes: The idol of arrows.
This poem is revolved around the Greek mythological god, Eros. The Roman equivalent is Cupid. In this short and lustful monologue the speaker recognises that their relationship is purely built on lust. Yet the speaker holds hope that the affair will last before the Promethean Heat vanishes. Do they need another word for "love"?
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