i no longer have all the things
i am proud of anymore.
the golds i have are gone
when i refused finishing a war.
the empire i brag about are gone
when i stopped fighting
the trusts people gave me are gone
when i didn't **** a man.
i am no one.
i have nothing left now.
but why all that
doesn't a lot matter to me?
i lost everything,
but i was not lost.
i was lost
when you laid in my arm
for the last time.
i promised i would protect you.
but i didn't.
i let him aimed you.
the stain of your blood
the last scent of your body
the tone of your voice
became an alarm to my ears. .
i wasn't dead
when an arrow hit my heel.
my real weakness is you.
- why did you have to take 'i will take an arrow for you' way too literally?
did you know your hair was golden in the sun?
you were the boy king, gentle as the summer air
you found me frail and useless, when i was nothing
yet you, in all your glory, made me something.
your name echoed through all the kingdoms of Greece,
you threatened yet were admired by the greatest of warriors
you roused lustful dreams in the most tender and innocent of nymphs
you were the mighty sentinel of the common stranger
yet you were mine to hold in the dark of night.
i still think about the way your leg dangled as your lyre lulled on,
your languid trails of kisses and starlit whispers
still haunt me the same way your unavoidable fate
crept upon you through your noble triumphs.
i have listened to your speeches like homilies of the faithful
i have memorized the creases on your face of fierceness
i have kissed your war wounds and cried for your pain
and i have read the greatest of legends in the lines of your body.
i could have sworn your battle cries
were as melodious as your lyre songs
and so beautiful they were
that i still hear you sing in the tides of the Aegean seas
you were destined for fame and wondrous glory
to be a story to be told for all time
to have people cheer your name and fall on their knees for you
loss was a feeling foreign to you,
yet the only thing you lost yourself to, in your pride, was love
who knew love could be such a terror?
golden haired triumphant prince
running swift and beautiful with the ocean breeze
nobody could ever catch up:
i had always thought you and i would live forever.
patroclus to achilles basically ahahhahha my heart
— The End —