Helen

This desecrated love is all I have to give,
The very essence of my being torn and forgotten.
Dragged from the abyss and through the fields of hell,
my body now lies suffocating upon a sea of flames.
My seared tissue a pleasant fragrance among the array of dead.

Charon has arrived.

Chaos has proscribed my choices and judgments.
In the sanctuary of my mind, I silently curse the man who has caused the burning of this retched city, of which I have been borne away too.
Paris.


Aphrodite has willed me to deceive.

Hades shall be my savior in this place of shadowed lands.
The pomegranates sweet flesh not enough to sustain the makeshift fantasies now rendered incapable of masking the nightmare I call a life.
I rejoice at the fact that he too, shall suffer the enjoyment of his sins.

From the dark a whisper calls . . .


“Oh where be my Orpheus?”