The man-god stands apart,
burnishing his youth.
The sword he clutches drips
with gore more green than red.
The sisters hover round
her broken frame and murmur,
Pity, pity. Their tresses hiss
and snarl, coiling, writhing,
coiling, writhing. Her serpents
lap her clotting blood. Her sisters
stretch their leather wings
and fly to purge the bitter gall
of their revenge, singing,
Sorry sister, Better you than us.
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
The man-god stands apart,
burnishing his youth.
The sword he clutches drips
with gore more green than red.
The sisters hover round
her broken frame and murmur,
Pity, pity. Their tresses hiss
and snarl, coiling, writhing,
coiling, writhing. Her serpents
lap her clotting blood. Her sisters
stretch their leather wings
and fly to purge the bitter gall
of their revenge, singing,
Sorry sister, Better you than us.