I wrote this poem for my English class, with the full intention of publishing it here. ;) I was doing a creative project on the Trojan War, and this was one of my sections. It's from the POV of Astyanax, Hector's young son, who was thrown off the walls to prevent him from growing up and trying to exact revenge for the obliviation of his home and the murder of his father.

Please read and review! Thanks! :)


Safe arms-

my mother, Andromache-

are torn away.

The high-crested war helmets

surround my body.

Mother's screams fill my ears,

they can't block those.

Her supplications

futile.

I am lost.

Up the stairs,

a place I've known my entire life

now charred and frightening.

Whistling winds

caress the high wall

where many deaths were mourned.

By bruising hands

I am lifted.

Breezes tickle my face

then the rush

slams like a fist

into my belly.

I soar

comparable to an eagle

flying on the left side.

I have no wings

I am a second Icarus.

Pain unbearable.

Two figures walk

from the fields of battle.

One dark, cloaked,

the other familiar.

I step from my broken body.

Father kisses away

my tears.

No more ships.

No more fires.

No more crying.

Father does not wear

His awful crested helmet.

I know

I am safe again.


There you go. I hope you enjoyed it. I can't really use exclamation points right now... they're too happy for this poem. R&R.