Haphaestus

Dykaion

The armies stood on fateful shore,

With axes and swords on the fore,

Their sights upon a single ship,

With same words uttered upon each lip,

“Is it he? Has he come?”

Many claim he hath come not

From the earth where man is got,

But the sky where rains hail from.

 

His father, of forge, fire and of steel,

Hephaestus, maker of lightning’s shrill,

Thrown from heaven by Zeus’ hand,

Cast down the clouds, unjustly damned.

Merciful earth though, saved the lame,

With fruits abundant, blessed his health,

Gave him strength to roam the earth,

To seek purpose in exile’s shame.

 

On Colchian path, Caucasian mount,

He walked on his way to no end,

To find a body pale on dry dust,

Still flowing with warm crimson blood.

With quick heart rather than quick wits,

He ran close to the dying lad,

Drew sharp steel and slit his wrist,

Then from god dripped golden red.

 

 

Strongly armed with clear thought,

Rather than hammer heaven got,

With intentions of truth and peace,

Rather than armoured plate and steel,

Did Just Dykaion march to shore,

To his ship small but

To help him guide the ship’s oars,

To meet the armies of two kings bold.

 

Landing on barren land between,

He jumped to shore with lightning feet,

Shaking alike land and men,

And with honest speech began:

“Why do brothers stand here, war-armed,

When we all are joined by old blood?

Beyond all petty reason be,

to slash, and slay, and slaughter,

Till blood fill the endless sea.”

 

To this rightful account

Did the northern king look with fault,

Face full of fury and reproach,

 “Yet when one’s own brother in heart,

did steal your love from loving clutch,

and better yet, flaunt it with happy haught,

do you sit there a stolid dolt,

Or stand and take arms in jolt?”

 

 

In silent thought, with conscience loud,

Did Dykaion’s plan Astenos allowed,

To return the fair maiden to rightful land,

That good peace may come at hand.

He bided to see the queen set free,

That war will and would never be,

Then climbed aboard his lonely ship,

And set sail home through sea.

 

Though heaven’s power was in clasp,

Beyond Cyclopes’ arm and Talos’ hand,

It was through wise word and true heart,

That did Dykaion was hero and man.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My first epic poem... actually, my first poem to be posted here. Hope you guys like it :)

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