Death On The Outskirts of Troy

[Darcy88]

Death on the Outskirts of Troy. (A Prose Poem). Achilles eyes the tall walls of Troy. Achilles eyes the towers, the bastions, the holes where the eyes of the many man-slaying Hectors peak. Hectors protecting her, ready to kill Achilles should he step too close to those high walls wherein she dwells, not a princess but a goddess, Athena incarnate. Red hair aflame, oblivious to the weak young Achilles pining to enter her gate, afraid to enter her gate or even approach it. A remorseful Achilles, an Achilles weak and friendless, by the shore alone pining, pining, pining. Pining for anything. For a glance, a remark, a flag. But he sees nothing. And so alone he hides in his ship. Afraid to even look. Too weak and tired and defenceless to even look a Hector in the face. Weak. Tired. Alone with his shield and his splintered spear, pining, pining in his ship. But the spear's end remains in tact. Its hard bronze like a beacon welcoming him to that other shore. That blessed shore where the dead meet with the dead. Achilles pining. For love, for friendship.