Dear Zeus, I love your daughter even more
Now that She decided to stop the war.
Could Her tears redress every human sore
In an age when missiles can reach each shore
Whether it is far away or next door?
Every city and pristine underscore
Can be pulverised as their ashes soar
Hiding the Sun and the stars to their core
Till no mammal remains to see and roar
At a past Moon and diplomatic boar.
Dear Athena, I am afraid to pour
Any shot of ouzo to times of yore
As you advance to the drums of our gore
Finding we had already reached the floor.
-----
Dedicated to peace and the ever uncertain future, and to Goddess Athena.
About the Creator
Patrick M. Ohana
A medical writer who reads and writes fiction and some nonfiction, although the latter may appear at times like the former. Most of my pieces (over 2,200) are or will be available on Shakespeare's Shoes.
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Two Wrinkles In Time
It is pointless to run, my darling, because sixty seconds ago, I will kill you. My blade will have sliced reality open right in front of you. It will have first pierced it as it would a bed sheet left hanging to dry, flapping in the wind on a Sunday afternoon. But the metal will have drawn a line in the air that the ghostly tear will have followed. Then I, La Dyablès, machete firmly in hand, will have emerged from what your mind, at the time, could only interpret as the other side of here—whatever that means to you. I know. I have seen that look on the faces of countless unlucky… clients. You will not have been the first nor the last to try and reneg on a riches for soul contract only to present this visage to me when I come to collect.
By Lily Séjor4 days ago in Fiction
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