The prince on the hill at mornings wars contest
sketched the change of the age with elder eyes;
the death of the garden, the fallen fortress.
In battle mid-res great warriors die
Apollo hails Ares “ You’ve just killed Love”,
“I slit her wrists. To watch crimson to sepia dry”
at the feet I might kiss, to change just enough to
alter to the past. Adrianus sang Alexander -
one line remains. World makers and word shapers
wish scream for time. As the sun seeks to rise
the daughters of Zeus flee from a modern chorus
till night and posey reside. I sit and rest my eyes,
left alone till dark from the suns first light rays
so many minutes, hours and days.
