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Aug 2014
O, be my prayer to the gods, Venus
Strong waters of Stygian grey, they swell
At my feet, whilst I stand yours, Aeneas.
Olympus saw our hearts, both in a spell
But mortal flesh grows weak in senescence  
It knew we should never be, for you are
Too perfect. I took this, such deliverance
From hopeless time, myself at your alter.
For if man were to couple with the gods
‘Haps, then earthly loves would not fade so fast
Take a gentle godhand, this man applauds
Aeneas is now a name for the past
She cries, Jove-blessed, ‘gainst my youth diurnal
Where a golden sky is ours eternal.
Written by
JP Goss
1.1k
 
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