There she bends her fluid form, milky skin dazzled with sweat,
to pluck the golden fruit from the marble earth.
It eludes her grasp, un-bruised from its fall till
she turns her back to the finish line, to her maidenhood, to her victories
and faces all her determination to catch beautiful and artificial  
apple. Midas’ own greed pulls her into succumbing to the last of Milanion’s offerings and Aphrodite’s snare.
There in her crooked form, her robes still billowing from the momentum, sandals come undone so close to the finish line
Atalanta clutches, desperately, to win her freedom and the gleaming prize.

Yet the Gods know that only one can be won.
Aphrodite’s dove proceeds the victor as he barrels to the finish,
his wedding in sight.

O wind,thou that art scented with the scents,
Of a thousand fallen leaves and grass,art
The hoper's hope,and carry,in torrents,
The wishes of all,of all that have heart.

Bear my wish! I wish that my soul be gone!
Be gone with thee,there,where no burdens lie,
On the poor flesh,and that I be alone,
So I may,my own meek self falsify!

But if you can't carry my sullied soul,
Take my lips to my love,so I may speak,
And in my gentlest manner,kiss her all.
Or bring me the scent of her rosy cheek!

Be steady,O wind,for on thee I rest,
My hope,that does all my love manifest.

The stake they put her to
encased in iron bound
Tightened with hay and perfumed with betrayal
The white lace adorned the flesh
The flesh that tempted him into manhood
Now a martyr he would make of her!
Joan de Arc
In no time did he tender the flames to her pyre
They lapped and licked at her
She wept a while, for her heart was broken
Her mind was broken
That which all she came to be was broken
and sent to burn
Hellfire came and took her
The white lace and blonde locks eaten
No screams, for the tears silenced her
and the creamy palate of flesh was cinders
It faded to ash and fell before their blind eyes
Blinded by their families sake
The boy soldier turned his eyes astray
but it had came to pass
she was right, Her words were true
No fire could burn she!
For she was the fire!, A she wolf, A shield Maiden
You cannot burn that which has lighting in her heart
and fire in her soul!
She arose from the ashes naked and pure
Golden and burning like a solar storm
The boy soldier marveled watched on
From her tortures, her torments
She rose higher above her death, her corpse, her ashes
To a new her!
Smothered in battle scars!
Her eyes a pit of combustion
Her past was cinders, her future was burning
Her crimson lips parted to roar with all the fire of a dragon
I am a woman, a warrior, a soldier! I am the fire!
Her fiery wings spread, the flames embraced her beauty
Her eyes gleamed like sunflare
She was the woman known as Tartarus
The woman all men should fear but desire, Valkyrie
She was the Phoenix rising, rising from the ashes
**Remember the pain, but learn the lesson