A flurry of wings, fierce and fast, A torrent of feathers, razor sharp Two bronze talons, enormous and tight, And I am gone. Gone From the Dardanian shore of my father.
Did I not crave a throne like my brothers? Why be born into a family of kings, only to toil Away as a bearer of cups for others? Their robes trail with ambrosia, and nectar Fills my nostrils constantly. I avoid their gaze, but find myself stealing Glances as my mortal side crumbles.
True, he gave me a deathless life, And chose me for his couch among all others. Yet I have heard the tales: countless Faceless women. Swooping in under anotherβs form, He leaves a child after taking what he seeks. But what has he left me? A task and a fate.
Iβll feel no tender embrace of dying flesh, No silk kiss from lips cracked with age, Never will I be filled with anything less than a god.
There is something to be said for loving In spite of death, not around it.
We shall remain here for eternity, neither Progressing nor drawing back. My emotions Stalled while my pleasure rages nightly. What does it cost to love a mortal, you ask, One running endlessly out of time?
I cannot say. But to be loved by a god, well, The shadow never moves, neither from the marker Nor from my heart.