Troy

Burning of Troy, Oil painting by Johann

At the peak of present I stand to watch the past,

where Paris cries to have heard the roar of hell

and the jaws of death approaching to kiss his last breath.

His cry ne’er reached to the ears of heaven

as he was the torch to set his city in flames

which prolonged for decades with no tail in the battle of Troy,

and troubling the nose of heaven by the reeks of slaughter

He as a prey of Sparta now recounts his deeds,

where he brought a rose along with thorns indeed

from the palace of Sparta without Menelaus’ consent.

Here Helen is subjected as a rose and the thorns were Menelaus’ battalion,

who thundered o’er the seas near the fortress of Troy like lion

He could not cover his fear to watch thousands of liner,

ploughing the foams o’er seas for years and decade

and burning the topless tower of Ilium to cascade. 

Remorse roll’d over his heart for having stole Leda's daughter.

Having seen the courtyard of Troy bathed in tears and bloods,

he thought its inhuman to fight for face of Helen

because of whom thousands with hearts of Buddha were slaughtered 

Categories: Poem