That you were once unkind befriends me now,
And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
For if you were by my unkindness shaken
As I by yours, y’have passed a hell of time,
And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
O, that our night of woe might have remembered
My deepest sense how hard true sorrow hits,
And soon to you, as you to me then, tendered
The humble salve which wounded bosoms fits!
    But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
    Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.

Thus did the Trojans watch. But Panic, comrade of blood-stained
Rout, had taken fast hold of the Achaeans and their princes were all
of them in despair. As when the two winds that blow from Thrace—the
north and the northwest—spring up of a sudden and rouse the fury of
the main—in a moment the dark waves uprear their heads and scatter
their sea-wrack in all directions—even thus troubled were the
hearts of the Achaeans.
  The son of Atreus in dismay bade the heralds call the people to a
council man by man, but not to cry the matter aloud; he made haste
also himself to call them, and they sat sorry at heart in their
assembly. Agamemnon shed tears as it were a running stream or cataract
on the side of some sheer cliff; and thus, with many a heavy sigh he
spoke to the Achaeans. “My friends,” said he, “princes and councillors
Of the Argives, the hand of heaven has been laid heavily upon me.
Cruel Jove gave me his solemn promise that I should sack the city of
Troy before returning, but he has played me false, and is now
bidding me go ingloriously back to Argos with the loss of much people.
Such is the will of Jove, who has laid many a proud city in the dust
as he will yet lay others, for his power is above all. Now, therefore,
let us all do as I say and sail back to our own country, for we
shall not take Troy.”
  Thus he spoke, and the sons of the Achaeans for a long while sat
sorrowful there, but they all held their peace, till at last Diomed of
the loud battle-cry made answer saying, “Son of Atreus, I will chide
your folly, as is my right in council. Be not then aggrieved that I
should do so. In the first place you attacked me before all the
Danaans and said that I was a coward and no soldier. The Argives young
and old know that you did so. But the son of scheming Saturn endowed
you by halves only. He gave you honour as the chief ruler over us, but
valour, which is the highest both right and might he did not give you.
Sir, think you that the sons of the Achaeans are indeed as unwarlike
and cowardly as you say they are? If your own mind is set upon going
home—go—the way is open to you; the many ships that followed you
from Mycene stand ranged upon the seashore; but the rest of us stay
here till we have sacked Troy. Nay though these too should turn
homeward with their ships, Sthenelus and myself will still fight on
till we reach the goal of Ilius, for for heaven was with us when we
came.”
  The sons of the Achaeans shouted applause at the words of Diomed,
and presently Nestor rose to speak. “Son of Tydeus,” said he, “in
war your prowess is beyond question, and in council you excel all
who are of your own years; no one of the Achaeans can make light of
what you say nor gainsay it, but you have not yet come to the end of
the whole matter. You are still young—you might be the youngest of my
own children—still you have spoken wisely and have counselled the
chief of the Achaeans not without discretion; nevertheless I am
older than you and I will tell you every” thing; therefore let no man,
not even King Agamemnon, disregard my saying, for he that foments
civil discord is a clanless, hearthless outlaw.
  “Now, however, let us obey the behests of night and get our suppers,
but let the sentinels every man of them camp by the trench that is
without the wall. I am giving these instructions to the young men;
when they have been attended to, do you, son of Atreus, give your
orders, for you are the most royal among us all. Prepare a feast for
your councillors; it is right and reasonable that you should do so;
there is abundance of wine in your tents, which the ships of the
Achaeans bring from Thrace daily. You have everything at your disposal
wherewith to entertain guests, and you have many subjects. When many
are got together, you can be guided by him whose counsel is wisest-
and sorely do we need shrewd and prudent counsel, for the foe has
lit his watchfires hard by our ships. Who can be other than
dismayed? This night will either be the ruin of our host, or save it.”
  Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said. The sentinels
went out in their armour under command of Nestor’s son Thrasymedes,
a captain of the host, and of the bold warriors Ascalaphus and
Ialmenus: there were also Meriones, Aphareus and Deipyrus, and the son
of Creion, noble Lycomedes. There were seven captains of the
sentinels, and with each there went a hundred youths armed with long
spears: they took their places midway between the trench and the wall,
and when they had done so they lit their fires and got every man his
supper.
  The son of Atreus then bade many councillors of the Achaeans to
his quarters prepared a great feast in their honour. They laid their
hands on the good things that were before them, and as soon as they
had enough to eat and drink, old Nestor, whose counsel was ever
truest, was the first to lay his mind before them. He, therefore, with
all sincerity and goodwill addressed them thus.
  “With yourself, most noble son of Atreus, king of men, Agamemnon,
will I both begin my speech and end it, for you are king over much
people. Jove, moreover, has vouchsafed you to wield the sceptre and to
uphold righteousness, that you may take thought for your people
under you; therefore it behooves you above all others both to speak
and to give ear, and to out the counsel of another who shall have been
minded to speak wisely. All turns on you and on your commands,
therefore I will say what I think will be best. No man will be of a
truer mind than that which has been mine from the hour when you,
sir, angered Achilles by taking the girl Briseis from his tent against
my judgment. I urged you not to do so, but you yielded to your own
pride, and dishonoured a hero whom heaven itself had honoured—for you
still hold the prize that had been awarded to him. Now, however, let
us think how we may appease him, both with presents and fair
speeches that may conciliate him.”
  And King Agamemnon answered, “Sir, you have reproved my folly
justly. I was wrong. I own it. One whom heaven befriends is in himself
a host, and Jove has shown that he befriends this man by destroying
much people of the Achaeans. I was blinded with passion and yielded to
my worser mind; therefore I will make amends, and will give him
great gifts by way of atonement. I will tell them in the presence of
you all. I will give him seven tripods that have never yet been on the
fire, and ten talents of gold. I will give him twenty iron cauldrons
and twelve strong horses that have won races and carried off prizes.
Rich, indeed, both in land and gold is he that has as many prizes as
my horses have won me. I will give him seven excellent workwomen,
Lesbians, whom I chose for myself when he took ******—all of
surpassing beauty. I will give him these, and with them her whom I
erewhile took from him, the daughter of Briseus; and I swear a great
oath that I never went up into her couch, nor have been with her after
the manner of men and women.
  “All these things will I give him now down, and if hereafter the
gods vouchsafe me to sack the city of Priam, let him come when we
Achaeans are dividing the spoil, and load his ship with gold and
bronze to his liking; furthermore let him take twenty Trojan women,
the loveliest after Helen herself. Then, when we reach Achaean
Argos, wealthiest of all lands, he shall be my son-in-law and I will
show him like honour with my own dear son Orestes, who is being
nurtured in all abundance. I have three daughters, Chrysothemis,
Laodice, and lphianassa, let him take the one of his choice, freely
and without gifts of wooing, to the house of Peleus; I will add such
dower to boot as no man ever yet gave his daughter, and will give
him seven well established cities, Cardamyle, Enope, and Hire, where
there is grass; holy Pherae and the rich meadows of Anthea; Aepea
also, and the vine-clad slopes of Pedasus, all near the sea, and on
the borders of sandy Pylos. The men that dwell there are rich in
cattle and sheep; they will honour him with gifts as though he were
a god, and be obedient to his comfortable ordinances. All this will
I do if he will now forgo his anger. Let him then yieldit is only
Hades who is utterly ruthless and unyielding—and hence he is of all
gods the one most hateful to mankind. Moreover I am older and more
royal than himself. Therefore, let him now obey me.”
  Then Nestor answered, “Most noble son of Atreus, king of men,
Agamemnon. The gifts you offer are no small ones, let us then send
chosen messengers, who may go to the tent of Achilles son of Peleus
without delay. Let those go whom I shall name. Let Phoenix, dear to
Jove, lead the way; let Ajax and Ulysses follow, and let the heralds
Odius and Eurybates go with them. Now bring water for our hands, and
bid all keep silence while we pray to Jove the son of Saturn, if so be
that he may have mercy upon us.”
  Thus did he speak, and his saying pleased them well. Men-servants
poured water over the hands of the guests, while pages filled the
mixing-bowls with wine and water, and handed it round after giving
every man his drink-offering; then, when they had made their
offerings, and had drunk each as much as he was minded, the envoys set
out from the tent of Agamemnon son of Atreus; and Nestor, looking
first to one and then to another, but most especially at Ulysses,
was instant with them that they should prevail with the noble son of
Peleus.
  They went their way by the shore of the sounding sea, and prayed
earnestly to earth-encircling Neptune that the high spirit of the
son of Aeacus might incline favourably towards them. When they reached
the ships and tents of the Myrmidons, they found Achilles playing on a
lyre, fair, of cunning workmanship, and its cross-bar was of silver.
It was part of the spoils which he had taken when he sacked the city
of Eetion, and he was now diverting himself with it and singing the
feats of heroes. He was alone with Patroclus, who sat opposite to
him and said nothing, waiting till he should cease singing. Ulysses
and Ajax now came in—Ulysses leading the way -and stood before him.
Achilles sprang from his seat with the lyre still in his hand, and
Patroclus, when he saw the strangers, rose also. Achilles then greeted
them saying, “All hail and welcome—you must come upon some great
matter, you, who for all my anger are still dearest to me of the
Achaeans.”
  With this he led them forward, and bade them sit on seats covered
with purple rugs; then he said to Patroclus who was close by him, “Son
of Menoetius, set a larger bowl upon the table, mix less water with
the wine, and give every man his cup, for these are very dear friends,
who are now under my roof.”
  Patroclus did as his comrade bade him; he set the chopping-block
in front of the fire, and on it he laid the **** of a sheep, the
**** also of a goat, and the chine of a fat hog. Automedon held the
meat while Achilles chopped it; he then sliced the pieces and put them
on spits while the son of Menoetius made the fire burn high. When
the flame had died down, he spread the embers, laid the spits on top
of them, lifting them up and setting them upon the spit-racks; and
he sprinkled them with salt. When the meat was roasted, he set it on
platters, and handed bread round the table in fair baskets, while
Achilles dealt them their portions. Then Achilles took his seat facing
Ulysses against the opposite wall, and bade his comrade Patroclus
offer sacrifice to the gods; so he cast the offerings into the fire,
and they laid their hands upon the good things that were before
them. As soon as they had had enough to eat and drink, Ajax made a
sign to Phoenix, and when he saw this, Ulysses filled his cup with
wine and pledged Achilles.
  “Hail,” said he, “Achilles, we have had no scant of good cheer,
neither in the tent of Agamemnon, nor yet here; there has been
plenty to eat and drink, but our thought turns upon no such matter.
Sir, we are in the face of great disaster, and without your help
know not whether we shall save our fleet or lose it. The Trojans and
their allies have camped hard by our ships and by the wall; they
have lit watchfires throughout their host and deem that nothing can
now prevent them from falling on our fleet. Jove, moreover, has sent
his lightnings on their right; Hector, in all his glory, rages like
a maniac; confident that Jove is with him he fears neither god nor
man, but is gone raving mad, and prays for the approach of day. He
vows that he will hew the high sterns of our ships in pieces, set fire
to their hulls, and make havoc of the Achaeans while they are dazed
and smothered in smoke; I much fear that heaven will make good his
boasting, and it will prove our lot to perish at Troy far from our
home in Argos. Up, then, and late though it be, save the sons of the
Achaeans who faint before the fury of the Trojans. You will repent
bitterly hereafter if you do not, for when the harm is done there will
be no curing it; consider ere it be too late, and save the Danaans
from destruction.
  “My good friend, when your father Peleus sent you from Phthia to
Agamemnon, did he not charge you saying, ‘Son, Minerva and Juno will
make you strong if they choose, but check your high temper, for the
better part is in goodwill. Eschew vain quarrelling, and the
Achaeans old and young will respect you more for doing so.’ These were
his words, but you have forgotten them. Even now, however, be
appeased, and put away your anger from you. Agamemnon will make you
great amends if you will forgive him; listen, and I will tell you what
he has said in his tent that he will give you. He will give you
seven tripods that have never yet been on the fire, and ten talents of
gold; twenty iron cauldrons, and twelve strong horses that have won
races and carried off prizes. Rich indeed both in land and gold is
he who has as many prizes as these horses have won for Agamemnon.
Moreover he will give you seven excellent workwomen, Lesbians, whom he
chose for himself, when you took ******—all of surpassing beauty.
He will give you these, and with them her whom he erewhile took from
you, the daughter of Briseus, and he will swear a great oath, he has
never gone up into her couch nor been with her after the manner of men
and women. All these things will he give you now down, and if
hereafter the gods vouchsafe him to sack the city of Priam, you can
come when we Achaeans are dividing the spoil, and load your ship
with gold and bronze to your liking. You can take twenty Trojan women,
the loveliest after Helen herself. Then, when we reach Achaean
Argos, wealthiest of all lands, you shall be his son-in-law, and he
will show you like honour with his own dear son Orestes, who is
being nurtured in all abundance. Agamemnon has three daughters,
Chrysothemis, Laodice, and Iphianassa; you may take the one of your
choice, freely and without gifts of wooing, to the house of Peleus; he
will add such dower to boot as no man ever yet gave his daughter,
and will give you seven well-established cities, Cardamyle, Enope, and
Hire where there is grass; holy Pheras and the rich meadows of Anthea;
Aepea also, and the vine-clad slopes of Pedasus, all near the sea, and
on the borders of sandy Pylos. The men that dwell there are rich in
cattle and sheep; they will honour you with gifts as though were a
god, and be obedient to your comfortable ordinances. All this will
he do if you will now forgo your anger. Moreover, though you hate both
him and his gifts with all your heart, yet pity the rest of the
Achaeans who are being harassed in all their host; they will honour
you as a god, and you will earn great glory at their hands. You
might even **** Hector; he will come within your reach, for he is
infatuated, and declares that not a Danaan whom the ships have brought
can hold his own against him.”
  Achilles answered, “Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, I should give you
formal notice plainly and in all fixity of purpose that there be no
more of this cajoling, from whatsoever quarter it may come. Him do I
hate even as the gates of hell who says one thing while he hides
another in his heart; therefore I will say what I mean. I will be
appeased neither by Agamemnon son of Atreus

Sadism
Against your dogma
Felt like a solace
Being said that,
It's a constitution

Humans vail
Agreed to their stupid conception
Made by
Their greatest grandfather

Shriveled, i say
The gyves
Yet they still asking,
Where is my rights?

And you just sat there,
Befriends with silence
Behind the coffin
*******

Brave Menelaus son of Atreus now came to know that Patroclus had
fallen, and made his way through the front ranks clad in full armour
to bestride him. As a cow stands lowing over her first calf, even so
did yellow-haired Menelaus bestride Patroclus. He held his round
shield and his spear in front of him, resolute to **** any who
should dare face him. But the son of Panthous had also noted the body,
and came up to Menelaus saying, “Menelaus, son of Atreus, draw back,
leave the body, and let the bloodstained spoils be. I was first of the
Trojans and their brave allies to drive my spear into Patroclus, let
me, therefore, have my full glory among the Trojans, or I will take
aim and **** you.”
  To this Menelaus answered in great anger “By father Jove, boasting
is an ill thing. The pard is not more bold, nor the lion nor savage
wild-boar, which is fiercest and most dauntless of all creatures, than
are the proud sons of Panthous. Yet Hyperenor did not see out the days
of his youth when he made light of me and withstood me, deeming me the
meanest soldier among the Danaans. His own feet never bore him back to
gladden his wife and parents. Even so shall I make an end of you
too, if you withstand me; get you back into the crowd and do not
face me, or it shall be worse for you. Even a fool may be wise after
the event.”
  Euphorbus would not listen, and said, “Now indeed, Menelaus, shall
you pay for the death of my brother over whom you vaunted, and whose
wife you widowed in her bridal chamber, while you brought grief
unspeakable on his parents. I shall comfort these poor people if I
bring your head and armour and place them in the hands of Panthous and
noble Phrontis. The time is come when this matter shall be fought
out and settled, for me or against me.”
  As he spoke he struck Menelaus full on the shield, but the spear did
not go through, for the shield turned its point. Menelaus then took
aim, praying to father Jove as he did so; Euphorbus was drawing
back, and Menelaus struck him about the roots of his throat, leaning
his whole weight on the spear, so as to drive it home. The point
went clean through his neck, and his armour rang rattling round him as
he fell heavily to the ground. His hair which was like that of the
Graces, and his locks so deftly bound in bands of silver and gold,
were all bedrabbled with blood. As one who has grown a fine young
olive tree in a clear space where there is abundance of water—the
plant is full of promise, and though the winds beat upon it from every
quarter it puts forth its white blossoms till the blasts of some
fierce hurricane sweep down upon it and level it with the ground—even
so did Menelaus strip the fair youth Euphorbus of his armour after
he had slain him. Or as some fierce lion upon the mountains in the
pride of his strength fastens on the finest heifer in a herd as it
is feeding—first he breaks her neck with his strong jaws, and then
gorges on her blood and entrails; dogs and shepherds raise a hue and
cry against him, but they stand aloof and will not come close to
him, for they are pale with fear—even so no one had the courage to
face valiant Menelaus. The son of Atreus would have then carried off
the armour of the son of Panthous with ease, had not Phoebus Apollo
been angry, and in the guise of Mentes chief of the Cicons incited
Hector to attack him. “Hector,” said he, “you are now going after
the horses of the noble son of Aeacus, but you will not take them;
they cannot be kept in hand and driven by mortal man, save only by
Achilles, who is son to an immortal mother. Meanwhile Menelaus son
of Atreus has bestridden the body of Patroclus and killed the
noblest of the Trojans, Euphorbus son of Panthous, so that he can
fight no more.”
  The god then went back into the toil and turmoil, but the soul of
Hector was darkened with a cloud of grief; he looked along the ranks
and saw Euphorbus lying on the ground with the blood still flowing
from his wound, and Menelaus stripping him of his armour. On this he
made his way to the front like a flame of fire, clad in his gleaming
armour, and crying with a loud voice. When the son of Atreus heard
him, he said to himself in his dismay, “Alas! what shall I do? I may
not let the Trojans take the armour of Patroclus who has fallen
fighting on my behalf, lest some Danaan who sees me should cry shame
upon me. Still if for my honour’s sake I fight Hector and the
Trojans single-handed, they will prove too many for me, for Hector
is bringing them up in force. Why, however, should I thus hesitate?
When a man fights in despite of heaven with one whom a god
befriends, he will soon rue it. Let no Danaan think ill of me if I
give place to Hector, for the hand of heaven is with him. Yet, if I
could find Ajax, the two of us would fight Hector and heaven too, if
we might only save the body of Patroclus for Achilles son of Peleus.
This, of many evils would be the least.”
  While he was thus in two minds, the Trojans came up to him with
Hector at their head; he therefore drew back and left the body,
turning about like some bearded lion who is being chased by dogs and
men from a stockyard with spears and hue and cry, whereon he is
daunted and slinks sulkily off—even so did Menelaus son of Atreus
turn and leave the body of Patroclus. When among the body of his
men, he looked around for mighty Ajax son of Telamon, and presently
saw him on the extreme left of the fight, cheering on his men and
exhorting them to keep on fighting, for Phoebus Apollo had spread a
great panic among them. He ran up to him and said, “Ajax, my good
friend, come with me at once to dead Patroclus, if so be that we may
take the body to Achilles—as for his armour, Hector already has it.”
  These words stirred the heart of Ajax, and he made his way among the
front ranks, Menelaus going with him. Hector had stripped Patroclus of
his armour, and was dragging him away to cut off his head and take the
body to fling before the dogs of Troy. But Ajax came up with his
shield like wall before him, on which Hector withdrew under shelter of
his men, and sprang on to his chariot, giving the armour over to the
Trojans to take to the city, as a great trophy for himself; Ajax,
therefore, covered the body of Patroclus with his broad shield and
bestrode him; as a lion stands over his whelps if hunters have come
upon him in a forest when he is with his little ones—in the pride and
fierceness of his strength he draws his knit brows down till they
cover his eyes—even so did Ajax bestride the body of Patroclus, and
by his side stood Menelaus son of Atreus, nursing great sorrow in
his heart.
  Then Glaucus son of Hippolochus looked fiercely at Hector and
rebuked him sternly. “Hector,” said he, “you make a brave show, but in
fight you are sadly wanting. A runaway like yourself has no claim to
so great a reputation. Think how you may now save your town and
citadel by the hands of your own people born in Ilius; for you will
get no Lycians to fight for you, seeing what thanks they have had
for their incessant hardships. Are you likely, sir, to do anything
to help a man of less note, after leaving Sarpedon, who was at once
your guest and comrade in arms, to be the spoil and prey of the
Danaans? So long as he lived he did good service both to your city and
yourself; yet you had no stomach to save his body from the dogs. If
the Lycians will listen to me, they will go home and leave Troy to its
fate. If the Trojans had any of that daring fearless spirit which lays
hold of men who are fighting for their country and harassing those who
would attack it, we should soon bear off Patroclus into Ilius. Could
we get this dead man away and bring him into the city of Priam, the
Argives would readily give up the armour of Sarpedon, and we should
get his body to boot. For he whose squire has been now killed is the
foremost man at the ships of the Achaeans—he and his close-fighting
followers. Nevertheless you dared not make a stand against Ajax, nor
face him, eye to eye, with battle all round you, for he is a braver
man than you are.”
  Hector scowled at him and answered, “Glaucus, you should know
better. I have held you so far as a man of more understanding than any
in all Lycia, but now I despise you for saying that I am afraid of
Ajax. I fear neither battle nor the din of chariots, but Jove’s will
is stronger than ours; Jove at one time makes even a strong man draw
back and snatches victory from his grasp, while at another he will set
him on to fight. Come hither then, my friend, stand by me and see
indeed whether I shall play the coward the whole day through as you
say, or whether I shall not stay some even of the boldest Danaans from
fighting round the body of Patroclus.”
  As he spoke he called loudly on the Trojans saying, “Trojans,
Lycians, and Dardanians, fighters in close combat, be men, my friends,
and fight might and main, while I put on the goodly armour of
Achilles, which I took when I killed Patroclus.”
  With this Hector left the fight, and ran full speed after his men
who were taking the armour of Achilles to Troy, but had not yet got
far. Standing for a while apart from the woeful fight, he changed
his armour. His own he sent to the strong city of Ilius and to the
Trojans, while he put on the immortal armour of the son of Peleus,
which the gods had given to Peleus, who in his age gave it to his son;
but the son did not grow old in his father’s armour.
  When Jove, lord of the storm-cloud, saw Hector standing aloof and
arming himself in the armour of the son of Peleus, he wagged his
head and muttered to himself saying, “A! poor wretch, you arm in the
armour of a hero, before whom many another trembles, and you reck
nothing of the doom that is already close upon you. You have killed
his comrade so brave and strong, but it was not well that you should
strip the armour from his head and shoulders. I do indeed endow you
with great might now, but as against this you shall not return from
battle to lay the armour of the son of Peleus before Andromache.”
  The son of Saturn bowed his portentous brows, and Hector fitted
the armour to his body, while terrible Mars entered into him, and
filled his whole body with might and valour. With a shout he strode in
among the allies, and his armour flashed about him so that he seemed
to all of them like the great son of Peleus himself. He went about
among them and cheered them on—Mesthles, Glaucus, Medon,
Thersilochus, Asteropaeus, Deisenor and Hippothous, Phorcys,
Chromius and Ennomus the augur. All these did he exhort saying,
“Hear me, allies from other cities who are here in your thousands,
it was not in order to have a crowd about me that I called you
hither each from his several city, but that with heart and soul you
might defend the wives and little ones of the Trojans from the
fierce Achaeans. For this do I oppress my people with your food and
the presents that make you rich. Therefore turn, and charge at the
foe, to stand or fall as is the game of war; whoever shall bring
Patroclus, dead though he be, into the hands of the Trojans, and shall
make Ajax give way before him, I will give him one half of the
spoils while I keep the other. He will thus share like honour with
myself.”
  When he had thus spoken they charged full weight upon the Danaans
with their spears held out before them, and the hopes of each ran high
that he should force Ajax son of Telamon to yield up the body—fools
that they were, for he was about to take the lives of many. Then
Ajax said to Menelaus, “My good friend Menelaus, you and I shall
hardly come out of this fight alive. I am less concerned for the
body of Patroclus, who will shortly become meat for the dogs and
vultures of Troy, than for the safety of my own head and yours. Hector
has wrapped us round in a storm of battle from every quarter, and
our destruction seems now certain. Call then upon the princes of the
Danaans if there is any who can hear us.”
  Menelaus did as he said, and shouted to the Danaans for help at
the top of his voice. “My friends,” he cried, “princes and counsellors
of the Argives, all you who with Agamemnon and Menelaus drink at the
public cost, and give orders each to his own people as Jove vouchsafes
him power and glory, the fight is so thick about me that I cannot
distinguish you severally; come on, therefore, every man unbidden, and
think it shame that Patroclus should become meat and morsel for Trojan
hounds.”
  Fleet Ajax son of Oileus heard him and was first to force his way
through the fight and run to help him. Next came Idomeneus and
Meriones his esquire, peer of murderous Mars. As for the others that
came into the fight after these, who of his own self could name them?
  The Trojans with Hector at their head charged in a body. As a
great wave that comes thundering in at the mouth of some heaven-born
river, and the rocks that jut into the sea ring with the roar of the
breakers that beat and buffet them—even with such a roar did the
Trojans come on; but the Achaeans in singleness of heart stood firm
about the son of Menoetius, and fenced him with their bronze
shields. Jove, moreover, hid the brightness of their helmets in a
thick cloud, for he had borne no grudge against the son of Menoetius
while he was still alive and squire to the descendant of Aeacus;
therefore he was loth to let him fall a prey to the dogs of his foes
the Trojans, and urged his comrades on to defend him.
  At first the Trojans drove the Achaeans back, and they withdrew from
the dead man daunted. The Trojans did not succeed in killing any
one, nevertheless they drew the body away. But the Achaeans did not
lose it long, for Ajax, foremost of all the Danaans after the son of
Peleus alike in stature and prowess, quickly rallied them and made
towards the front like a wild boar upon the mountains when he stands
at bay in the forest glades and routs the hounds and ***** youths that
have attacked him—even so did Ajax son of Telamon passing easily in
among the phalanxes of the Trojans, disperse those who had
bestridden Patroclus and were most bent on winning glory by dragging
him off to their city. At this moment Hippothous brave son of the
Pelasgian Lethus, in his zeal for Hector and the Trojans, was dragging
the body off by the foot through the press of the fight, having
bound a strap round the sinews near the ancle; but a mischief soon
befell him from which none of those could save him who would have
gladly done so, for the son of Telamon sprang forward and smote him on
his bronze-cheeked helmet. The plumed headpiece broke about the
point of the weapon, struck at once by the spear and by the strong
hand of Ajax, so that the ****** brain came oozing out through the
crest-socket. His strength then failed him and he let Patroclus’
foot drop from his hand, as he fell full length dead upon the body;
thus he died far from the fertile land of Larissa, and never repaid
his parents the cost of bringing him up, for his life was cut short
early by the spear of mighty Ajax. Hector then took aim at Ajax with a
spear, but he saw it coming and just managed to avoid it; the spear
passed on and struck Schedius son of noble Iphitus, captain of the
Phoceans, who dwelt in famed Panopeus and reigned over much people; it
struck him under the middle of the collar-bone the bronze point went
right through him, coming out at the bottom of his shoulder-blade, and
his armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground.
Ajax in his turn struck noble Phorcys son of Phaenops in the middle of
the belly as he was bestriding Hippothous, and broke the plate of
his cuirass; whereon the spear tore out his entrails and he clutched
the ground in his palm as he fell to earth. Hector and those who
were in the front rank then gave ground, while the Argives raised a
loud cry of triumph, and drew off the bodies of Phorcys and Hippothous
which they stripped presently of their armour.
  The Trojans would now have been worsted by the brave Achaeans and
driven back to Ilius through their own cowardice, while the Argives,
so great was their courage and endurance, would have achieved a
triumph even against the will of Jove, if Apollo had not roused
Aeneas, in the lik

There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried. Not for nothing one face, one character, one fact, makes much impression on him, and another none. This sculpture in the memory is not without preestablished harmony. The eye was placed where one ray should fall, that it might testify of that particular ray. We but half express ourselves, and are ashamed of that divine idea which each of us represents. It may be safely trusted as proportionate and of good issues, so it be faithfully imparted, but God will not have his work made manifest by cowards. A man is relieved and gay when he has put his heart into his work and done his best; but what he has said or done otherwise, shall give him no peace. It is a deliverance which does not deliver. In the attempt his genius deserts him; no muse befriends; no invention, no hope.

Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events. Great men have always done so, and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying their perception that the absolutely trustworthy was seated at their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being. And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the same transcendent destiny; and not minors and invalids in a protected corner, not cowards fleeing before a revolution, but guides, redeemers, and benefactors, obeying the Almighty effort, and advancing on Chaos and the Dark.

My Best Friends name gets used,
All the time
My Best Friend makes me feel powerful
But also can cut me down in seconds
My Best Friend is a dark soul
But befriends everyone
My best friend kills people
All the time
But nobody can stop My Best Friend
I can never leave My Best Friend
My Best Friend weighs me down
I say I hate My Best Friend
But
My Best Friend Is Hate.

one good thing will happen
to counteract the bad,
bringing me back down to earth,
dissolving each dream that i’ve had.
expect the worst, always hope for the best
set yourself up for a long way down
to fall until you can finally rest.
i can’t have everything, everyone knows nobody can
i feel like an ostrich
hiding his heavy head in the sand.
maybe disappointment and happiness
are in fact, closely linked.
maybe what i need is beyond what i want
or feel or say or think.

I found thee againeth t'is evening-
Bathed in naughty candlelight!
Son of th' moon, knight of th' night-
dance again, as th' day's closing!

Look how th' fir tree starts smiling-
beneath t'ose winds, t'ose hailing winds!
And 'tis force smooth on thy young skin-
as ****** as t'is pretty spring.

Swim, swim againeth in my gay soul!
O how happiness thou but spit-
into my life's dark and bland pit.
Tame as th' deer, sweet as th' foal.

And benign be t'ese stubborn horns-
by songs t'at cheer as on thou hum.
Love t'at spreads through th' airless room;
like flowers t'at nourish their thorns.

T'at tangled bush of jealousy
Swarms of grief and studied envy
All melt'd away on'th sight of thee;
like foliage and its brown tree.

And o, how thy gaze charmed me more!
Gaily didst I stretch like a rose-
or princess in an epic prose!
Ah, t'at handsome face and suit thou wore.

I smileth and stareth at th' ceiling
Composeth t'is love poem is silence.
To myself but I kept chuckling-
upon thy merry remembrance.

How I still love thee-and want thee!
'Tis still thee t'at could giveth me warmth.
One to be cradled in my arms-
my half flesh and true destiny!

Thou art my hue and sweet rainbow
Shots of purplish and violet haze.
But th' streets are a fiendish maze;
Not I seeth thee from my window.

O, and as I layeth on my pillow
Well of smoothness and pure whiteness-
unhastened by dreams and madness!
'Gain I wasth struck by'a love arrow!

I loveth thee, I loveth thee alone
Thou art th' wealth of my stories-
guilt t'at befriends fears and worries.
It's thy heart t'at I should hath won!

Selfish, o might be I but sound
To claim thee as my own mercy!
My foreign hopes and lunacy-
but not austere as t'ey might'th found.

And t'is confession doth I make-
beforeth our sky and dear'st heavens!
Undereth th' whisper of lanterns-
when all asleep ye' I'm awake.

My thee, my thee, come back to me!
Fix just on me thy glance once more-
t'ose tender eyes, just like before!
Lips grand with raw vivacity.

I'll be right t'ere-my love, my love,
waitin' for a red fallen star.
Then thou wilt cometh down from afar-
and fly my wan soul like a dove.

Fulleth of love is th' May summer,
greenness in'th front yard of the church.
And blissful am I like a birch-
as thou tied my heart one gay noon.

And raiseth I in cheers and splendour;
as thou awe me with thy fond spell!
Then joy shalt become our dell-
and love our prosperous harbour.

Home is where the sand meets the water meets the waves meets the crashing
Home is where I tuck toes into sun-caressed ground that sinks into memory
Home is where the weather is salted and the air blue and hands always warmth
Home is where the ocean bellows a welcome with open arms, cold, tempting
Home is where an excited skipping inhabits the eager legs of a dog too human
Home is the crow's calling for tomorrow
Home is where the voices whisper soft in alleyways outside windows at 3 a.m.
Home is holding a glass of Santa Margarita in front of a graceful fireplace
Home is a ripe avocado waiting to be pitted
Home is my bed full of past unwanted and future anticipated
Home is the bittersweet taste in the mouth
Home is a single cigarette burning to mourn loss unknown
Home is where the glow of a quiet street befriends city lights
Home is his laugh echoing through the silence of the night
Home is my smile growing with the wind's howl
Home is where this body misses another
Home is where I touch you and remember why I'm here
Home is I'm coming back,
Home is I'm counting down the days
until I am

My musings always pun me through a wide range of vividly exulted grimaces. I think like an ***, act like an ***, assassan-ing a conjugal of my mind and soul. 'Why', my only friendly foe stares at me, giving out a roar of laughter as if I'm his slave. He seeks pleasures by caging me in his castle where beauty meets an imperfection, heart rejoices with brain, and imagination treats a trick. When I peek through the orifice, the wreckage of my wrong decisions welcome me gleefully. My devilish side gets overwhelmed by such a warm welcome. It asks for more cutting out the pinions of my angelic side.

Ah! Clipped wings-------No wings!

Soon, devilish side overthrows my angelic side usurping a ******* over me. It collapses my self-esteem, laying entwined in the arms of my ego. Ahh! I combat, show the feats of courage but, a mistake became a lifetime regret. I put off my veil of courage for a second to pacify myself. Now, I'm all naked from head to toe. In the mean time, my opponent injure me by an arrow of self-pity. I, I AM destroyeDD. No shelter. No armor. No cloak. I'm NOMore. I try to find a lost-me but lose a remaining part of me. I try more, I lose a part again. The more I try, the more I lose. Now, I'm physically a non-existent but my soul still wanders. My soul still pursues the answers. My soul is in desolation. My soul tries to comfort himself but stops as someone whispers,


'Great things never come from comfort zones'
(An unconcerned-illusionary-truth fooled my soul, Badass soul!)

Now, my soul wants to re-surrect in a way that he get his body again. My soul imagines the days when his gestures were heard by the body terming as ****** gestures. My soul enlivens his morale, wears a smile but, still seems incomplete. Once, my soul finds a body but can't find a place in it. It is preoccupied by another soul. When my soul asks for a companionship, it denies. My soul is not even in a state where it can make sly innuendos. He still feels those oblique marks, disparaging comments, shadowing hîs path. Those feels still make him sweating out bullets. My soul finds a body whose soul is longing to depart. My soul rejoices thinking that this is something what he wants. Soon, my soul houses in a ****** paradigm of a lady. My soul gives a new life to the lady. Her spirits are high, and confidence is a multiple of her spirits. My soul elates, leaving an olive branch. My soul befriends her body. She is a merry-go-lucky lady but her melancholy changed her. Her bewitching beauty is a plus to her nature. My soul remembers my ugly face and but still send positive vibes my way. After sometime, my soul gets busy with the lady and forgets me. I try to send him signals but he doesn't respond. I try more, still nudges from his side. I forget my soul too. When I feel lonely in my grave, I wander here and there. I try to befriend the people resting in other graves, I fail. All graves are scented with the perfumes of love, which their beloved spray on them.They are brimmed with the gags of laughter, murmurs of joys, and clicks of wonders. My heart still throbs for my soul, and I. over and over again.

I have been one acquainted with the night,
But darkness gives me peace not often found
On summer days.  I look alone to them,
But winter winds, the moon, and shining stars
Provide companionship to men like me.
I dance around the dark and think they must
Consider me to be a lunatic;
The moon always befriends a crazy man.
But loneliness reminds me of close friends,
And cold revives the thoughts of pleasant fires,
And darkness hides the stories of low liars.
I might not like the night itself as much
As I adore the memories it brings,
But I still find a beauty in night skies
Because it blocks my poor, imperfect eyes
And gives, in darkness, a new light to things.

I wanna escape
And give up on society

I wanna escape
From reality

I wanna escape
And runaway from everything

I wanna escape
So everything will end as a past

I wanna escape
I wanna leave
Those heartbreaks, those fake friends and those pains

I can't live like this anymore
I would rather live in a treehouse
And befriends with those animals, plants and nature

I wouldn't be afraid
If beasts will attack me
Because the real beasts
Are the society and those judgemental teenage girls

But then i realise
The pain is not only in the society
That i can easily leave it

But the real pain is inside me
Inside my heart
And there is no escape
From the storm inside of me


{S.K}

the hunger i feel
the emptiness inside me
befriends my broken heart

Guys always say “Oh girls are so complicated.” or “why do girls always have to be so confusing?”
Well gentlemen you are no different
You are just as confusing to us as we are to you.
Why must you fight with your fist instead of your words

Why is it that after a fight you can act like everything is normal?
Do you understand what fighting is?
Do you know that it isn’t just some way to get your frustration out?
Can’t you be more civilized and put those caveman ways behind?

Do you realize when a girl likes you or do you only pay attention to the one that you like?
Do you know what it means when a girl befriends you?
Do you see what is right in front of your eyes?
Hello Open up that brain we all know that you have inside!

Pay attention to everyone and you just might
see the light that is right there in front of you.
Can you hear someone calling you?
Or do you dismiss that voice because it’s not the one you want to hear
Open your ears or you might miss the best thing that could ever happen to you.

In calm waves of imaginings  I am mermaid,
Always chasing you through the towering tides,
Disappearing between each scalloped crest;
Only my tail visible, sticking out at odd angles.

I have lean, strong swimmer's muscles; I can swim for miles,
Nearly keep up with submarines, ships, ferry’s,
For a limited time. My hair tumbles down
As though a nest, like *****, twisted seaweed
Around my face’s shipwreck-glass eyes
And sunscald lips.

I follow keenly the scent;
Something, someone who’s precious- human scent,
Pungent, earthy, vivifyingly attractive,
Counterpoint to the ocean’s ambergris.

Meanwhile there’s only horizons of teal water all around me,
And roving sky above; my sole company most days.
I swim with just the barest hint
Of whispered memories,
Something so far and long ago;
He who knew well the secret heart of me,
Within my fishy innards
And  in spite of my appearance.

Sometimes a stray dolphin befriends me,
And travels for a distance beside me;
Speaking in strange, native high-pitched dolphin talk;
And dolphins are interesting, but they are not men,
And they can’t comprehend what is it I follow

In the blind, long-aching of unknown distance,
Or what I pine for nightly, in my roiling watery soul
In the solitary caves, of this twilight world.

You have a wife and four daughters
and a colleague amongst your supporters
mindset engineered: you answer a question
with a question and indulge in light sensationalism

My wife befriends many people - a natural star
suddenly they're saying the same things that you are
ideas are pinched, put to use, there's no excuse
for queering my pitch - you stupid *****

No offence meant: I hold myself to account
who am I to hold court, judgemental nonsense
don't say anything, go sit yourself on the fence
come back to me when you have pounds, shillings and pence

Some commontators seem less than cool
it's doubtful if they could explain the offside rule

Cold nights
Souls drifting
Hearts beating  
Dream chasing
Echoes of wolves speaking
My ears listen while my hearts skipping
Fear befriends my lonely soul
It holds me hostage
As I sleep with these wolves
I remember the touch of sheeps
In pain I dive deep
Giving sorrow my soul to keep
Seeing that love is as sharp as these wolves teeth

I crawl unnoticed
into your bed,
having done so many times before.
I know you.

Familiar is always inviting.
The warm sheets, welcoming pillows
bound reflexively around you.
I am that inch of the bed
you never knew.

Darkness and discomfort rapidly infect
the free-spirited bliss that befriends you daily

Toss left.
Toss right.

Your brain in my hands,
a black slab of clay

Open your eyes,
all that seemed so clear, now
clouded like a stone dropped
into still shallow water.

I decide to unchain you,
for you may manage your physical existence, but

I am the puppeteer of your alternate reality.

(trioletish)*

she is lithe and serene
as the staid air melts, frantic.
as she befriends a sable fiend
she is lithe and opaline.
for completion, they convene
and together study the bleak, pedantic.
she is lithe and agleam
as the staid air melts, prismatic.

sweet churns sour.

stable now shakes.

sun into somber.

night seeps into day until they become one.

curtains drawn.

sunless skin.

sleepless eyes.

increased to 20mg.

little white tablet, taken once daily.

CAUTION

world in swirls.

lay down lay down . . .

can't stay awake...

don't want to be awake...

it hurts . . .

stomach befriends the throat

befriends the mind, befriends the mouth.

i want to collapse...

it takes getting through hell to be happy.

and the worst part is, i'm not sure if it's worth it.

Beware the boss who befriends you best above the rest
The compliment isn't free
It's you they'll savage, not he

I'd like to be the girl
with fiery red hair
and eyes that sparkle
like the surface of the water
she dwells in

I'd like to be the girl
who lives to love
and loves to live
and befriends
the sweeter, smaller things

I'd like to break the barrier
and taste the salty air
and maybe even find my way
on my own two legs
in a whole new world

I'd like to find someone who loves me
despite my past
because maybe my heart
will make up for it

I'd like to be Ariel
because I'd like to have
a happy ending

THE FORFENDED CODSWALLOP OF MURENGERS OF VEHEMENT VAPULATED CREDENDA OF THE VISIOGENIC MEGALOGRAPHY OF THE FORTUITISM OF GIMCRACKS THAT WITH STALWART WHIGGARCHY AMONG JOUGS OF JIGGERMAST CERTAINTY CRACKLING WITH FULGURANT ACCLAIM MIGHT THE TREMENDUM OF TOOTLE OF CAFARDS OF BIFIDS BETWEEN CATALLACTICS OF CORDWAINER KIPPAGE FROLICKING IN HEARSES OF ANTILOQUY BECAUSE OF BARYEICOIA STRENUOUS WITH THE RIGORS OF GAUNTLETS OF SKELDER IN RISCTENDER BECOMING A CLINKSTONE CLITTER OF CLAVATES HANDSPIKING THE AVINOSIS OF REFINED AND REIFIED PROCATELEPSIS IN WAINAGE ABOVE POWELLISATION THAT WE REBUKE THE HEADLONG POTICHOMANIA OF WELDS OF WHELKIES FOMENTING THE SARANGOUSTY BURROLING THE DREAMS OF ONEIRODYNIA THAT ADMONISH WITH GRAVID BELLETRIST WOVEN INTO THE FUCOID FABRIC OF CAESARAPROPISM FOR THE WEIGHAGE OF PORTREEVE STEVEDORES UPON THE BACILISUM OF AGGRY PIEBALD SKIRMISHES WITWANTON IN SKEUMORPHS OF DAYDREAM BELIEVERS REPLICATED AND REDOUBLED INTO THE WIDDERSHANCY OF CATAPLEXY CONTRAHENT TO DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS SACCHARINE HUMORS OF CONTESTED LITURGY SUSSULTATORY AMONG SPATTEES OF SPAVINEDS NO LONGER COMPELLING BELIEF IN THE RENEWED GELOGENIC ZEITGEIST PARADED BY NEPHROLITHS OF ESTEEMED STOCKINETTE MIGHT THEY FIND THE FRACTIOUS ANIMADVERSION OF SACRILEGE IN PRAXINOSCOPE BECOME THE WOONERF UPON RIDDLED WOOLPACKS CRAVEN ONLY BECAUSE OF RETINACULUM OF SUBINTELLIGENTUR VERY VAPID IN TACITURN LIFE-PRESERVERS OF AUXILLIARY MOVEMENTS TOWARDS STOLID FORTITUDE IN DEMASSIFIED TROPISMS THAT CHOUSE THE YUZBASHIS OF YASHIKI BECAUSE TOO MANY CHERNOZEMS BELLOW THE BLUDGERGRUMBLE OF ZEITGEIST FOMENTING MYTH AND WRITHING IN WREPOLIS DICTATES OF RESCRIPT BECOMING TOO NEBBICH FOR APIKOROS OBSERVANCE OF REMIGATION THAT SHALLOPS THE UNTIMELY ENDS OF THOSE BLACKGUARDED BY THE NEBULOSE WARNINGS OF CUDDIES OF CUCULINE SOCKDOLAGER RUMMAGING FOSSARIAN GROWTH OF GLEBES HYPAETHRAL AGAINST KILLCOWS WHO BECOME IMMISERATED IN THEIR OWN SCHADENFREUDE ALWAYS THE WADMAL OF THE FRUITION OF FUTURISM STOKING ONCOSTMANS TO CASEFY THE VANDYKES TO BE FORMATIVE IN FUTURE GLORY. THE CAPREOLATE ATTEMPTS AT INTERRAMIFICATION BECAUSE OF URCHINS OF CODSWALLOP IN WROTH IN PARALLAX ENTOMBED ONLY BY RIVETING DURESS FOR THE DURAMEN OF DENEHOLES WHELVES ADMIRE AND THE VEESES THAT BLANDISH WITH ACORIA AND AUGENDS OF ARGALI RARELY EVER SURDOMUTE IN RAGMATICAL RHIZOGENIC CALCULAIC ATHENAEUM BECAUSE MOONSHOT AMBITIONS HUSTLING THROUGH URBANE CATACOUSTICS OF CARRACKS BECOMING RESOURCEFUL IN THE PRIMIPARA SQUALOR SWELTERING IN BARCAROLES SUBMERGED TO SINK THE TITANISM OF NAUFRAGES OF HEDONISM AFLOAT UPON SLELLUMS OF OCEAN PRAGMATIC IN PARALYSIS SUCH THAT THE GINGLYMUS OF HYDRAHEADED TRANSCENDENTALISM ESPOUSED BY THE BEBLUBBERED ROMANTICISM OF STORGED SALMAGUNDIS OF CANCELLARIAL DEFEATS OF COVVENGERS BECAUSE THE BRONCHOS THAT WAS STALWART IN REGELATION OF THE INTELLECTUAL TABERNACLE SUBSUMES THE LIONIZATION OF ALL INURED PYRETOLOGY THAT THE PYRANOMETRY OF SUBORNED GAMINES SQUAWKING COSTERMONGER SIMPLICITY AS A VEGETATIVE STATE OF REMIGATION FOR OLIMS THAT CREEP ALONG THE PURPRESTURE OF TIME MIGHT THEIR CHRONOMANCIES BEFIT THE CABRILLA OF SWANK THAT THE FILEMOTS OF FENNEC DECLARE WITH THEIR SONDAGE OF AVIZANDUM BEFORE THE AUSPICES OF NOBILITY AND GENTILITY BY GENTILIANS WHO SWEAR BY THEIR BYWORDS OF NAZE AND CAGOULE THAT THEY FIND THEMSELVES DEFEATED BY THE MODERN DEMARCHES OF A WORLD IMBREVIATED ON THE TOLERATION OF NEUTROSOPHY OF GRAMERCIES TOO WIDELY SWORN IN HALLSWALLOP TO EVER FIND THEMSELVES ANCHORED TO THE REGIMENTAL BEDROCK OF SOVENANCE FOR ABIGAILS THAT BLUNGES THE BLAINS IN THEIR SWORN ALLEGIANCES TO AMNESIA AND CECUTIENCY IN CTETOLOGY THE MALAXAGE OF SITHCUNDMEN AND THE REMARKABLE PROWESS OF THE DOYENNES SHEPHERDING THE ARTFORMS INTO POWERFUL GALLOPING HEADLESS HORSEMEN POLITICS OF THE RESIDUAL COCARDEN LUCKY ENOUGH TO BE AN ADVOWSON OF THE RICHES OF HAMARCHY THAT AVOIDS WITH ALL DELIBERATION THE PICKELHAUBES OF PROCRYSIS BECAUSE OF THE JIMSWINGING DAYS OF DEATH AND GLOOM OF KITTHOGE BELYING KITH AND KLENDUSIC DERMATOLOGY BROCKFACED BY INTREPID PIONEERING ELITISM THAT THE CHARITY OF PROMACHOS TITANS IN MIRRORED ENANTIODROMIA FOR THE EISOPTROMANIA OF THE EAGER EARWIGS MIGHT THEY SUSTAIN THE BRUNT OF THEIR LEVERAGE TO ANNEAL THE COAGULATED TIMES AGAINST THE AGENCY OF RHEOTAXIS IN A WORLD BESET BY CHAOTIC DEMOLOGY RATHERIPE IN CONTRAPLEX DELUSIONS FEEDING THE SWARTHY STORMS ON THE PRECIPICE OF TODAY BECOMING THE HIGHLIGHT REEL OF SO MANY ARISTOPHREN YESTERDAYS BECAUSE OF THE BACILISUM OF AITCHBONES RASPY IN THE CHALKISH HUES OF RHADAMANTHINE NOSOCOMIAL TWIRES OF FEAR AND FAMINE AMONG DESOLATE LANDS OF PHAROS AND PHAROAH COMBINED INTO THE VIRTUOSITY OF COACERVATING SPHACELATION THAT LEADS TO THE PRESBYTERY SUFFICIENCY OF THE TORCHIERS BEFORE AND BEHIND THE VANGUARD SLEEK IN THEIR JAUNTY DISGUISES OF MASCARON MIGHT THEY INTIMIDATE AND ARRAIGN THEIR SECRET SAMIZDAT FOR THE LUCRE OF ANTEPONE BECAUSE OF TUMESCENT BUREAUCRACY MET WITH CAPITALISM ASTOUNDING IN GIMCRACKS OF PORTFIRE AND BALEFIRE WITNESSED WITH THE GREATER DISCRETION RATHER THAN LESSER LASSITUDE.  THERE IS AN ANZACTILE PERFECTIONISM AMONG PICARROONS WHO BLARINGLY ISSUE THEIR SEMAPHORES MIGHT THEY BE ENTITLED TO BRAG ABOUT THE CELSITUDE OF CEILOMETERS AS THEY WITNESS IN RETROSPECTIVE AUGUST REGARD THE CELLARERS WHO FESTOONED UPON THEIR TEPID CARNIFICINE YELTING TRIUMPHS GOWKS OF GRAMPUS IN GOSSYPINE COMPLICITY WITH STANNARY AVARICE AND BULGURS OF BUDDLING BODEWASH FOR BUMICKY BADIGEON THAT HAS STAMPEDED FROM THE ALCOVES AND CAVERNS OF THE GREATEST SEMPERVIRENCE AND JIGGERMAST JURYMAST THAT THE PIRATING AITCHBONES WHO WANDER IN EMISSARY KNIGHTED NEMBUTSU THAT THEY RELISH AS SAFEKEEPING YEGGS BELONGING TO COAMING COBALTIFEROUS MENACE SKITTISH IN THIXOTROPY AND GENTEEL IN THIGMOTAXIS BECAUSE OF THE VORTICISM OF THREMMATOLOGY THAT ITCHES AROUND VOLTINISM CAUSED BY VASTATION YIELDED BY PANDATION BECAUSE THE POTAMOLOGY OF ELECTIVE PRIVILEGE INDOCTRINATES THE PAST MASTER INTO FIDELITY AND ALLEGIANCE TO PARASELENE ELASTANE TRIBUTARIES AND TRIBUNES OF BERLINE BOYAU BURIED IN THE DEPTHS OF METAPHOR AND RELISHED LYRICISM THAT EVENTUALLY THE DEMASSIFICATION OF THE HUMBLED STANJANT OF OBVIOUS METAPHOR AND CLOAKED NEPHELIGINOUS NEBELWERFERS THAT STORMED THE BASTILLE AND CONQUERED THE MOON WITH GEOSELENIC AMBITIONS HARPOONING THE TRAULISM IN TRUCIDATION SERRIED IN THE SULKIES OF ALL PARAGONS CONVENIENT TO EVERY HITCHIKER OF GALAXIES OF MOONCALF DEMISANGS THAT BELONG TO CARDIOGNOST AGENCY SWELTERING IN BEAMISH BEATITUDE FOR THE PULCHRITUDE OF PHILOTECHNICAL DIVERSION TO PONDER WITH GREAT PENSIVE PERPLEXITY THAT THE HISTRINKAGE HEIGHTS OF FANFARE MIGHT LEAD TO A GALLOPING GLADIATORIAL PAST ENLIGHTENED BY THE THEOLOGY OF MAGNANIMITY AND ANSWER THE QUESTIONS OF  IDOLATRY OF ESBATS WHO FOMENTED AMONGST THEMSELVES A TRIBUTE TO THE SENNET OF ARTISTIC MACROBIAN CREATURES OF KNIGHTED GLOAMING TWILIGHTS IN THE HEYDAY OF NIGHT SUCH THAT  THE WELKIN TRAMONTANE TO THE CHAMPAIN LIFES WE ALL LIVE IN A NORTH, EAST AND SOUTH WORLD OF FORESIGHT IN DELICATESSENS WHO URGE WITH HORTATORY VALOR THE CHAMADES OF CHOANIDS IN THE SAPROSTOMY OF SCHWERMEREI AGAINST THE LAST DEFENSE OF EXTINCT SCHMEGGEGY WHICH BARNSTORMS OFTEN FOR SCARAMOUCH TESTUDOS IN TESTIMONY TO THE CRAPEHANGER JOLLYBOATS OF NIHILISM IN A CENTURY OF DOUBT ATTEMPTING TO RESURRECT LIFE FROM THALWEGS THAT NEGOTIATE THE METEMPSYCHOSIS OF ALL NEOMORTISM AN ALTERNATIVE ULTAMATIM THAT SUGGESTS A THIRD ROUTE TO BYPASS THE NARROW GATE OF SALVATION AND ENRICH THE THEOTECHNY ALL BASED ON A HYPESTORM YAFFINGALE MYTH OF YARHZEITS OF SHIBBOLETH THAT BROWBEAT THEIR NEOTTIOUS NEPOTISM TO INSURANCE POLICY ESCHATOLOGY BRACKISH IN EVERY INSISTENCE FOR TAMARAWS TO CONQUER THE EXTRAMUNDANE BY A VIRTUALASIS BECOMING THE VOGUE RATHER THAN THE TRIBULATIONS OF ORGANIC DEATH LEADING US ALL TO THE PARADISE WE SEEK IN THE ALABASTER CAVERNS OF HEAVEN. AN ACCOLENT MENTALITY WHICH BEFRIENDS DEATH AND BEFRIENDS ALL WITNESSES OF THE GOSPEL THAT FINALLY THE CAMARADERIE OF MAGISTRATES IN DORMANT HARBINGERS OF BARKENTINE SUFFRAGE OF WOBBLING WARTORN SPECTERS OF NEOTERISM FOR OUR NIMBOSE DEMASSIFICATION AGAINST BOWDLERIZATION IN ATTEMPTS TO STIFLE THE FREEMANS STRUGGLE TO OBTAIN TRACTION IN LEVITY AND FACETIOUS LARGESSE AGAINST THE BRONTEUMS OF THE POSTCENNIUM OF ELAPSED CUDDY IN CULVERTAGE TOO SOON TO BE A PRIMACY IN PRIMORDIAL CAVERNILOQUYS OF APOSTILS THAT SEEK TO DECIMATE WEGOTISM AND ENSHRINE THE UMBRILS THAT MARCH TOWARDS SALVATION BY LEADING US OUT THE TEDIUM OF SUNKEN NOYADES OF THE TITANISM OF THE LOUDMOUTH AND THE CLEPSYDRA THEREBY ANOINTED BY HIS GENTILITY TO PRIVILEGE AND HIS PREROGATIVE TO DECRASSIFIED UNDERSTANDING SUCH THAT THE CUNICULOUS AMBITIONS OF MANY A FAMILY REMAIN REVIVED BY OIKONISUS RATHER THAN THE PERILS OF POPULATION COLLAPSE IMPLODENT UPON INTRORSE CONSTELLATIONS OF RABID DEARTH PROSELYTIZING DOOMSTERS ADEEM OF THEIR OWN SACRILEGE EVEN WHEN THEY SEE THEMSELVES RAISONNEURS OF THE HEROISM OF STRIFE AND SIFFLEURS OF PROCRYPSIS BECAUSE WE WALLOP WITH WHITTAWERS RATHER THAN REGRESS ON WOONERF OF EXTREME TORPOR AMONG MONGERIES OF VIOLENT RESURRECTIONS BLEMISHED BY PARTURITION MISGUIDED. IN NIMIETIES OF  SUNBITTERN SUMPTERS GRAVITATING TOWARDS MARTINGALES OF BYSTANDER SUNDOGS ALLEGIANT ONLY TO THE CODIFIED CASEMATE OF SILENCE BECAUSE OF BRITSKAS THAT STAMMER IN TRAULISM TEPID IN EVERY LUKEWARM THOUGHT OF SURREYS OF SAGINATED SURETYSHIPS OF THE SATINET COERCED BY THE BOBBINET OF BODACHES TO ROIL IN TURMOIL BECAUSE OF LIMACINE MACADAMIZATION OF A NEWER MACARISM RATHER THAN AN OLDER STULTIFICATION MOTIVATED BY STANGS OF BANGTAIL CULTURAL ARTIFACTS OF JEALOUSY CAROUSING WITH JALOUSIES AGAINST THE MANY JORDANS THAT LEAP OFF THE PAGE IN THEIR WEATHERBOARDS OF POPULAR FLAGRANT FOULS AND NEWSWORTHY BERLINES THAT BESET JASPERATED JARVEYS OF BARTONS OF PANMIXIA IN THEIR PANDATION OF IATRALIPTIC RENEWAL OF THE TRIBESMAN AND PEOPLE FROM OTHER LANDS FILLED WITH A NAUCLATIC CLORENCE AND A RENGALL DIVERSIFICATION OF EQUIPOISE FOR EQUESTRIAN HABITS OF KOBOLD CHUCKWALLAS OUR GREATEST ALLY AND SIMULTANEOUSLY THE BOGGART BUGABOO OF MANY SPECTERS OF MYTH AND LORE REGISTERED IN THE CLAVIS FOR THE CLAVATE THAT THE PLAGATED PLAGIUM OF THE PAST MASTERS MIGHT THEY CURTAIL WITH CURGLAFF THE SYNCLASTIC PRISM OF THIS ZEITGEIST SUCH THAT THE CLAMBER FOR HOLOCRYPTIC HOLMS OF METEMPERICAL DISCOVERIES SO FAR-FETCHED IN THEOLOGY THAT THEIR LAXISMS BECOME STRANDED IN AN AVALANCHE OF TORPINDAGE BECAUSE THE TRUTH ABOUT GOD WILL STARTLE EVERY LEGERDEMAIN AND ENROLL EVERY PRESTIDIGITIATION THAT GOD’S COUNTENANCE WILL LAVISH ITSELF UPON THE EARTH BROADENED BY BROCKFACED BARMCLOTH THAT FINALLY SOME GAMMERSTANG IDEOLOGY FINDS THE PROPER PIVOT BETWEEN MULIEBRITY AND ALSO VIRILITY AND WHEN THOSE COMPROMISES ARE STRUCK WE WILL FIND A RENEWAL OF GALLANT COURAGE AGAINST MACROPICIDE ON THE TAFFRAIL AND THE ABAFT ABARTICULAR ABAXIAL NYALAS THAT FINALLY YIELD THE CLOVERYIELD OF STRIFE INTO MODERN REVOLUTIONS BY SUPPLYING ALL INTERRAMIFICATIONS THAT FUNNEL THE SYRINXES INTO THEIR PERCEIVED AUTOSOTERISMS FOR SURNOMINAL LEVERAGE THE ARTIFICE OF ALL NOMOGRAPHY IN NOMENCLATURE. WHEN WE ANALYZE THE SVEDBERGS WE SEE THE DISSOLUTE EUDIOMETERS INFORM THE SQUAMATION OF ALL MORAL VIRTUOSITY THAT FINALLY RHEOLOGY IS COUNTERMANDED BY MORALITY CZARS WHO POLICE WITH MUGIENCE AND EVEN RUDENTURE A CULTIVATED SOCIETY THAT SURROUNDS US ALL WITH VEILS OF PROTECTION SUCH THAT SUFFRAGE AMONG VEILLEUSES OF RATOMORPHISM OF SYNOECIZED HARMONY THAT BELLOWS THE CARTHAGIAN CARNAGE OF THE AGES OF TIME IMPERILED BY THE BRICOLAGE TRIAGE OF MALAXAGE SUCH THAT WE FIND OURSELVES MARAUDING IN MOONLIGHT TERPSICHOREAN POLYPHILOPROGENITIVE PLEROMORPHY IN PLEOCHROIC HUES DESIGNED FOR WASES OF WAPENTAKE TO ENSURE EACH STATE AND DIVISION EARNS ITS FAIR SHARE OF BOONDOGGLES THAT THE IATROMATHEMATICS ANALYZED BY GRADGRINDS IN TRUTINATION OF THE MOST PERSNICKETY BUT LOYAL DISSERVICE TO PIEBALD GLABROUS CONFORMISM SUCH THAT THE MUTUALISM OF INTERNECINE DIVIDES LEADS US AGAINST ZUGZWANG WITH NARRISCHEIT BECAUSE THE JAMDANI CAN ONLY BE HEALED WITH AN HONEST OBSERVATION OF THE THERMODYNAMICS OF STOCKINETTE SUCH THAT ALL ARE INFORMED OF SHIBBOLETH AND ALL ANGARY LEVERAGE OF THE UMLAUT BERATING THE IBERIS MIGHT SALVAGE THE HIDDEN POLITIES OF THE PARCHMENT OF THE LORD’S SUPPER FINALLY CONVENED FOR THE SACRAMENT OF A UNIVERSAL EUCHARIST FOR THE UNIVERSAL CREED OF AGGIORNAMENTO. WE BELONG TO THE INTAGLIO ISOGENS THAT BURROLE WITH DEFT COURAGE A REMEDY AGAINST CHARLATAN QUACKSALVER WORMCASTS OF HYPOGEIODY IN NESTITHERAPY AUTHORED BY APOTHECARIES BELONG THE UMBRILS THE CHURCH ALLOWS TO ENSURE THE FULLY LIVED LIFE CAPTURES THE DENIZENS OF TAX COLLECTORS SUCH THAT A REFORM OF IVORRIDE AND OCCAMY WITHIN THOSE GINNELS OF CIVILIZED URBICULTURE CREATED THE MOST FERVENTLY BY BERGAMASKS OF BRITTLE BRONZED BONZOLINE ACCOMPLISHMENTS SUCH THAT THE SPHENOGRAMS OF SPHACELATED AND SPIRACULATED IMMISERATION MIGHT FIND ITS WOUNDS HEALED EVEN IN THE DIACOPES OF INSECURE BRONTEUMS PROCLAIMING ONLY THE YELLOWBACKS OF ALL SENSATION AND SENSATIONALISM BECAUSE WE  WANDER WITH THE MINSTRELS AND TYMPANY OF A MACARISM EXACERBATED INTO FURY AND FRENZY SUCH THAT WE MOBILIZE THE YOUTH INTO YOUTHQUAKES AND YESTERTEMPESTS OF FINALISM MIXED WITH CASUALISM SUCH THAT A NEOVITALIST SURREY WILL BECOME THE SONDAGE OF THE TRUE SYBOTIC UNSEELED UNREEVED INTERPOLATION OF ALL ILASTICAL TONICS OF HEALING AND THE LOVE OF THE LORD BEYOND THE SPANS OF TIME ENCAPSULATED IN IMBREVIATION STRICKLED BY SILENTIUM AND SILENCE. THE AVINOSIS OF THE ACROAMATIC HAMARCHY THAT BURROLES WHEREVER CONVENIENT TO AVOID WHERRETING WHIFFETS AND BECOMING UPON THE VERDERERS OF THE ESCAPADES OF A TIMESPUN GLORIFICATION THAT HONORS OF ISOKERAUNIC AND ISOHALINE ISONOMIES OF SCALE AND ECONOMIES OF REVALORIZATION MIGHT WE CHANCE UPON THE PALLOR OF REFLECTIVE NIGHTS TOO PENSIVE TO CONTEMPLATE WITHOUT A WHIMPERING SHEEPISHNESS THAT ALL IS REVEALED IN THE LORD’S TIME AND THE LORD’S SUFFRAGE FOR ELEUTHEROPOMANIA SUCH THAT PNYXES ARE DEFEATED BY THE HONEST HINDSIGHT MEETING THE BACILISUM FORESIGHT THAT HOUNDS US ALL INTO FINALISM IN OUR AUSTERE REGARD OF THE NEW YORK TIMES AFFECT ON MAN SUCH THAT OGDOADS BECOME DEFEATED EVEN BY THE PARTICIPANT NYALAS THAT ENLIST THEIR SERVITUDE BECAUSE OF ORGANITY AND AGAINST THE STATOLITH BEHEMOTHS OF THE STERNWAYS OF STERQUILINIAN HATRED COBBLED INTO ABSOLUTION WHEN WE ALL REALIZE THE IMMACULATE HEART OF MARY LIVES IN EVERY ASPIRING DAYDREAM AND THE PAPAL DECREES OF THE SOPHROSYNE WILL DECIDE A FATE THAT GOD OBEYS AND HONORS WITH HIS PLEDGES OF PLEVISABLE PERMISSION TO LIBERATE AND COMMUTE THE SENTENCES OF SING-SING PRISON. WE WITNESS THE CASTRAMETNATION OF THE ELAPHURES BECAUSE OF ORYZIVOROUS WHO ENCROACH SUBTLY IN LAMBENT PERFECTED NIGHTS OF THE PURPRESTURE OF CUCULINE AND CUNICULOUS OBEDIENCE TO A RENEWED DEMARCHE ON THE BARNSTORMS OF HEAVEN UPON THE EARTH SUCH THAT IN EVERY TEAR OF THE MAUDLIN SENTIMENT BECOMES AN ALPENGLOW OF HEAVENLY REGARD SUCH THAT ANNEABILS OF TIME AND THE ANGELS OF HEAVEN SPY UPON THE VANGERMYTES TO KEEP THEM UPRIGHT AND SAVES THE WREPOLIS SUCH THAT THE CELSITUDE OF THEIR BOASTS BECOMES A TRIBUNE TO ENLIGHTEN EVERY HEAVENLY HALLOWED HALLWAY EMERGES WITH CERTAINTY INTO A NEWER FRONTIER OF THE NOVANTIQUE THAT ALLOWS SCHOENABATIC CONTORTIONS OF LEVERAGED LITURGY SUCH THAT NO ABEYANCE CAN EVER ERASE GOD’S PERENNIAL LOVE FOR HIS SPECIES AND FOR THE AGRIZOIATRY OF ZOOLOGY SUCH THAT GRAMPUS BECOMES BEMOANED BY GOSSYPINE GOWKOS RATHER THAN HUMAN JOCKOS AND JOLTERHEADS BLARING A NEW SIREN INTO THE SWARM OF MELLIFEROUS LOVE IN THE HARBOR OF TOMORROW GLORIFYING GOD IN THE HIGHEST RESPECT RATHER THAN TREATING HIS AXIOMATIC AXIOMS AS ONLY AN EXCUSE TO CONSUMERISM IN BANGTAIL STANGS OF OSTENTATION. WE WITNESS THE WORLD ABAFT IN RAPTURE SUCH THAT THE FUTURE NOYADES WILL ALWAYS BE ANTICIPATED BY THE VISCIDITY OF THE VITRAIL THAT INTEMERATES AND PREMONISHES THE ERRORS OF MISTAKEN MALADROIT NEBELWERFERS OF PSITTACISTS SUCH THAT THE GENERATION THAT GREETS ROBOTS ALSO REGREETS TIMES BEST CREATIONS AND CELEBRATES ALL THE VIRTUOSITY OF THE ATTEMPTS OF URANOPLASTY UPON THE EARTH. AMEN

Enid barely hears her mothers farewell not given happily not wanting her daughter to to go out to see the boy Benny whom Enids father doesnt like but none the less she lets Enid go out of the flat calling out half heartedly as she puts the boiler on for washing Enid rushes down the concrete staircase of the flats before her mother changes her mind and calls her back she takes the concrete steps two at a time to get out of the flats faster  then out into the Square out into the fresh morning air rushing past the man with his boxer dog not looking back in case her mother is on the balcony beckoning her back home she runs down the ***** her hair sensing the air going through it where will Benny be? she muses coming to the end wall of the ***** and taking a right turn through a gap in the wall and waits on the kerb of Rockingham Street looking up Meadow Row wondering if Benny is on the bomb site up there behind the green grocer shop she waits her feet on the edge of the kerb rocking back and forth wondering whether he will be there or whether he is still at home in the flats  after a few minutes of indecision she crosses Rockingham Street and walks up Meadow Row slowly hoping Benny is there because she doesnt like going on bomb sites on her own too creepy and there might be tramps hiding there and she doesnt like them they frighten her she passes houses and looks up towards the green grocer shop in case Benny is there waiting like he sometimes does but no he isnt there  she passes the public house on the corner hears a piano playing and the smell of beer and an old man at the bar drinking and smoking she walks to corner and turns into the Arch Street where the back of the coal wharf is and the bomb site opposite she walks up gingerly hands folding inside each other nervously coal wagons and lorries are parked by the coal wharf  and coal men are busy working loading up both lorries and the wagons drawn by horses she looks over the bomb site scanning the ruins and half walls for Benny she screws up her eyes and puts a hand over her eyes to block out the morning sunshine and yes there he is she says to herself over by the wall putting cans on a low wall as targets for his catapult practice she walks over towards him glad she has found him happy for the first time that morning despite her  fathers temper and rages she had not been touched that morning no slaps or hidings just the rows and her mothers screams and cries Benny turns and sees her and waves his hand beckoning her over she walks over the bomb sites uneven ground  until she is next to him he studies her takes in her face and eyes and scans her body for bruises and black eyes none good he muses sticking his catapult into the back pocket of his jeans you all right then? he asks yes she says wondered if you were here or not been here a while now he says you got out all right then? he asks noticing apprehension in her eyes yes just about Mum let me come although I have to be careful Dad doesn't see me with you or therell be hell to pay Mum said Benny nods his head he knows Enids old man knows hes a bully and belts Enid but he befriends Enid despite her old mans dislike of him whered you want to go? Benny asks she shrugs dont mind where he smiles what about Kennington Park? she looks unsure is it far? she asks no about fifteen minute walk he says not been there before she says is it good yes it is good he says we go along Kennington Park Road and when we get there we can get a drink of pop and maybe an ice cream her eyes light up then she frowns havent got money she says he raises his eyebrows so? Ive got a few bob my old man gave me some for doing a few jobs for him and my mum gave me a bob for getting her some shopping the last few days Benny says Enid nods her head and wishes her parents gave her money for doing jobs rather than her fathers hand across her backside or her mothers sharp tongue well? Benny says want to go? ok she says it sounds good and Ive not been before but at the back of her mind she worried about her father what he would say or do if he found out shed been out with Benny come on then Benny says and they walk across the bomb site she walking beside him feeling happy to be with him feeling safe despite them being only nine years old Benny seemed older seemed like her knight in short sleeved jumper and jeans  they walk on to the New Kent Road and she knows Benny knows his way even if she doesnt well how was your morning? Benny asks looking at her side ways on my dad was in a mood and shouting and there was a row so I hid in my room until he went to work and Mum wasnt happy but she said I could go out but to be careful Enid says her voice letting the words flow as much as to inform as to get it out of her mind what set him off? Benny asks looking both ways before they cross the road dont know he was rowing first thing their voices loud and hen Mum screamed and I was afraid hed come in my room and give we a whack or something as he does if hes in a mood but he didnt Enid says they walk on down Kennington Park Road traffic passing them by hes a *** on your old man Benny says I had him in my sights the other evening when I had my toy rifle on the balcony I could have blown his head open with one shot but the cap just went BANG and Enid jumps back and Benny laughs sorry didnt mean to frighten you he says holding out a hand towards her which she takes and holds did he see or hear you? she asks no I hid behind the walls but I reckon he nigh **** himself and they laugh and she feels a **** of happiness run through her and his hand holds hers warm and soft and secure shes happier now than shes been for age thats for sure.

You can search far and wide for a beauty that matches hers.
Only Gaia can hint at the beauty she possesses.
Her eyes are a soft green,
A gentle aquamarine like that of the sea;
They captivate and tranquilize you.
Only Helen's smile is a pale example of hers,
Which leaves you with the desire to see it again;
Nothing in nature surpasses her smile.
The right words will reveal her laugh,
Only the Nightingale's charming melodies can come close;
It is a siren's call that you follow repeatedly to hear again.
She radiates warmth when she holds you,
Like a gentle touch of glow of Apollo on your cheek;
A natural peace can be found when her arms are wrapped around you tight.
Her dark hair is as soft as a cloud,
Yet it runs through your fingers like wild silk;
She is a dark-haired version of Aphrodite when her hair is left down.
You can travel across the world in search of a beauty like hers,
But nothing can match it.
It is not restricted to the mortal body.
You have to look inside her heart to discover its origin.
She is kindness personified,
Her scruples displayed in her actions;
Maybe she is **** reborn into the modern world.
She holds conversations with all,
But she befriends only a select few;
Her exclusive circle open only to those she cherish.
I can wonder how blessed they are to be in her presence,
I only wish to be in her arms;
Yet she has carefully let me in with open arms,
While protecting the parts she is not ready for me to glimpse.
My patience and support she will eternally have,
As a friend, companion, or more;
Her happiness is my ever reaching ambition.
Not even Gaia can compete against this dark-haired mortal goddess,
Whose strength I forever admire.
She will always remain a compelling presence in my life,
No matter the Fates' intentions for our lives.

This summer tide had tears, just like any evening
Tears streaking her cheeks, the beasts are here to take her
Beaming up to greet them, she took the blade.
Conquered again she’s falling apart, oh who’s to blame
It’s not easy being Mia’s companion, with Ana as her sister.
The beasts are laughing as she befriends the white walls.
The whirling swish of the water becomes the music to her ears.
In too deep, no one can save her.

- a.l.

Cut open my face,
that would only make it quicker.
I chose my fate,
so could you make this quicker?
You are not you
and I'm half of me.
Trapped in typhoon,
a war under moon
goes endlessly.
The night befriends you
to help you cut through.
What's left here is
nothing for you.
I left there, stayed here
with you.
No rights, I went left
with you.
Held tight, I spent
nights with you.
Then hands grip my neck,
no gun at your head.
A quick loss of breath,
look what love did.

I get a glimpse of you everyday,
But only for an hour.
I always wanted to talk to you,
But sometimes I cower.
My day is always complete
Until it is over.
There's nothing fun anymore,
But with you, it's covered.

'til then,
I tried to be bolder.
I tried to be the outgoing  person
Then make you a letter,
My heart skips a beat and gets faster,
As I get closer, it feel like my heart is on fire.
Burning inside from nervousness 'till it gets slower.
Then realize, nothing last forever.
I don't want us to suffer if we lose each other.
I'd rather stay befriends than to lose you for the better.

New country,
new language to learn.
It's so exciting when you're only 5.
Wanting to meet everyone,
wanting to learn their story.
Enthusiastically barely understanding.
Some words familiar,
movies had taught me a handful.

Finally someone understood
my parents are French too, but I was born here
Maybe he'll be my friend?

Still so much too learn,
Laura, what sunk the titanic?

I knew the answer, but not the word
aan ice cewbe?

I really did know the answer
HAHA you're so stupid! It was an iceberg!

I knew the answer
do you put icebergs in your drink, Laura? Hahaha
I just didnt know the word.

A unique sense of betrayal,
abandonment,
when you're own people shame you
for still trying to learn the words of another.

I thought we were the same
you're stupid and ugly
I had so many friends back home

I thought they would understand,
help maybe?
Always had been too gullible.

Maybe the movies were wrong.
No one befriends the outsider.
No one shows mercy.
It's survival of the fittest after all.

If the strongest bully
makes sure you know it
who intimidates and pushes around
to get his own way
to a point where he has no true friends
just nervous compatriots

suddenly

talks instead of terrorizing
helps instead of hurting
befriends instead of beating

do we care what the motivation is
or do we welcome the change

and how long until we trust him completely