I was at the Agora
when I accidentally noticed
Achilles hiding in the shadow
of the lonely olive tree
the last greenery in the heart of Athens

You are dead, I said, the dead
do not associate with the living.
How wrong can you be, he said,
I am more alive now
after two thousand years
than I have ever been

Look around
I am in every history book
in every school
in every poem
in every treatise
I am known by all
as it was prophesied
What more should I ask?