Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Tags
#patrochilles
patroclus. remember me? listen. 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 never disappeared. the last scent of your body haunted me. the tone of your voice became an alarm to my ears. . i wasn't dead when an arrow hit my heel. because maybe, my real weakness is you.
0
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 10:41 AM UTC
shrnrose
patroclus. patroclus.
patroclus. remember me? listen. 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 never disappeared. the last scent of your body haunted me. the tone of your voice became an alarm to my ears. . i wasn't dead when an arrow hit my heel. because maybe, my real weakness is you.
Continue reading...
33
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.
0
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
panaginip
The Lament of the Son of Menoetius
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.
Continue reading...
31