Cassandra
I wrote two versions of this poem, not really sure why. I've always felt that Cassandra, the daughter of King Priam of Troy, was one of my favourite mythological characters.
Cassandra(1)
Flames and blood
My city dead around me
In flames and blood
My brothers' and father's
Red is their blood.
I speak always the truth
Seeing the future I cried
Out in horror
But a god's curse
No-one believed
Woe, woe I cry
As I sit here and weep
Possession now, not princess
Prize for a warrior to keep.
But I see the future
I know
Cassandra(2)
O my city
Dusted in ashes
Soaked in blood,
My family's blood,
You sprawl.
Shattered and scattered
Like children's toys
But these children are gods
And our lives their amusements
What use now your wisdom,
Renowned king, Priam my father?
What use now your courage,
Great champion, Hector my brother?
What use now your ambitious name,
Master of the city, Astynax my nephew?
What use now my prophecy,
God's once-beloved, weeping Cassandra?
I saw the future, but
Could not change its horror
And I see it now
There is no hope for me,
But that my city's conqueror comes
To an ignoble death.
I laugh.
