Thursday, April 21, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 - 21st Day

Oh, Woe! Oh, Woe!

Stepping on the land of the enemy
To behold a house that is filled with gold,
Everything needed by the human me,
Belonging to a man so brave and bold,
The man who have taken my hand to fear.
The defeat of my people I still hear.
And his lady arrives to welcome my place.
She's graciously smiling a perfect smile,
Making me feel like a part of his grace.
Calming my sorrowful heart for a while.
She is singing all of the feel-good words.
As shiny and new as all these Greeks' swords.
Although it is clear to her why I'm here,
Arriving in her husband's homecoming.
In my heart and in my soul, there lies fear ...
Having lost a chance for a good wedding
With one of my own, living my own kind ...
Now in tears, still leaving it all behind ...
I still hear the cries of my own people,
Feel the flow of their blood on our sand
As I step on this land like a cripple,
But o I feel worse for this woeful land,
For in the hallways and rooms of this house,
Lies a sleeping evil that will soon rouse
The next twist of fate for the near future.
Behind all the gold, the walls breathe shadows ...
Monsters seen only by my soul so pure,
And you who sees the thing that never glows
In the hearts of well-dressed people, it hides,
Growing bigger in their flattering chides.
You who have opened my mind to see these,
I have trusted you with all of my love.
Loving your clever eyes that never miss.
And a share of your vision I still have.
But oh, why have you sent me to this place?
Why the worst of your works I have to face?
My body is caught, but my soul is free!
And I refuse to make another step!
I miss my home, where the lovers agree.
And in their mother's rule, children are swept.
At least, this is what I know of my Troy.
Losers though we are in this evil ploy.
My gentle soul cries in the air of here,
Where a wife will murder her own husband.
Children who banish their own, fateful fear,
And scheming to remove the feeder's hand
All in the name of parading evil.
These are all the things your visions reveal.
I'm the missing thread soon to be woven
Into the purple robe of his grand floor.
In nearby trees, I wait as a raven,
Bringing the message to open the door
Into the deeper functions of your plot.
And this human fear might be the one cut ...
I shall go now for I am being called.
Stepping forward into my greatest doom.
She beckons, for her heart has become cold,
Colder than this house that's covered in gloom.
Please grant me the glory I deserve.
For your will, my god, I still stand and serve.
Making my last walk, breathing my last breath
In the hall of all their powerful sins.
Leaving this place, going toward my own death.
I may not see all the following scenes
In the present time of her wrong statement,
But I have bowed to the real fulfillment.
Thanks to NaPoWriMo for the poetry prompt!
My Camp NaNoWriMo 2016 April progress: 17674
Resources for the poem:
Note: Please let me know if my citations are unnecessary. Thanks in advance.

Also, this just came up in my Harvard network, "The Trojan Women."

Post a Comment