Lament of the Aristos Akhaio
His fragile frame spills scarlet still warmed by the fervency of his love
Love never to be betrayed further
Stolen from me in his naive pursuit of a modus vivendi
Between my alcove in his heart and his virtuous morality
We spoke so often of immortality
Of eternal legacies of splendor
While your lulling warmth obscured its austere nature
But now my hands are stained with carmine life
And my aureate tresses are dull with guilt
I am Aristos Akhaio, the best of men
yet i pale in the face of your magnificence
Doomed to a fleeting hope for mortal life and glory
When you were all I ever truly longed for
Even in death you watch me
Not in reverence but adoration
Your shrouded figure etched into my recollection
But sadistically lost to me forevermore
Glory befits the strong
Or so i once heard
But I never sought glory of any name but yours
Broken down into 3 syllables sobbed into the air
You were never your fathers' glory but to me you are everything
My only life, my only legacy, my only love
And my strength was stolen by the whisper of your broken breath
Copyright © Danielle Gaitan | Year Posted 2022
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