The Tale of the Hero That Fought the Furies
""AH, but their anger is not a small thing
Where their fury demands its own fullness
They stink of pain and death, long blacken wings"
Their tormenting stings pure hell nothing less."" -- RJL quote-1973
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In Greek and Roman mythology, the Furies, also known as the Erinyes, were female spirits of justice and vengeance12345. They were created from the blood of Uranus, the god of the sky, when he was wounded by his own son with an adamantine sickle3. The Furies punished those who had committed crimes against the physical and moral order of things, especially those who had murdered family members1245. They were described as having bat-like wings, black skin, foul odors, and hair tangled with serpents3. The Furies lived in the underworld and tortured the damned when not punishing wrongdoers on earth1.....
The Tale Of The Hero That Fought The Furies
What fool courts the anger of Furies' wrath
Wherein man's flesh is filled with huge boils
They that rest and play on unrighteous path
There in darkened pits, whipped in toil
Vipers tossed in to give deadly bites
And scorpions added for burning stings
All fun for furies on hideous nights
Pity those used as their little play things
Down in black, wherein demons learn to play
And devilish imps dance their way around
Victims cry out foul curses, so they say
Furies delight, sell their flesh by the pound
Few have ever the Furies dared taunt
In cells where pain and cursing only sound
They beg a water cup as their one want.
One must ask why no heroes there tread
Is not their job to tackle such bad wrongs
This man has never ever such tales read
Never in singings nor heroic song!
Yet the Furies are too busy to boast
They waste no time in tortures and hangings
Using fire to burn crying flesh to toast
Never defeated nor ever defanging
Yet demons and imps playmates they use well
As men and women writhe in agony
Crying, why are we in this living hell
Furies plan each party as a symphony
All that dark has never been defeated
Truth, their victims life not ever cheated
Furies this poet their madness reveals
As my way lost, our god now so heals
I swear my sword and shield to come to thee
And if a hero I can truly be
I fear not thy wicked cuts and deep stings
Nor thy use of those red-hot burning brands
And should my deeds be that which some may sing
So be that truth, across all these lands
Hold this true fact, I do this to be just
Tho' my oath may be a heroes decree
I do now only that thing which I must
And I do so to live life well and free
Whether my fight ends in my victory
Care not my name goes down in history
Copyright ©
Robert Lindley
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