Tag: Poetry

Poetry

Apollo’s loss

The Royal Octopus

In golden light, where laurel grows,
The god of sun, with grace bestows
His love upon those hearts that bloom,
Beneath the stars, beneath the moon.

Hyacinth, with beauty bright,
Apollo’s gaze, his guiding light,
In fields they laughed, in youth they played,
But fate with cruel hand was laid.

A discus spun, a fatal blow,
From Apollo’s hand, the winds did throw.
Hyacinth fell, his breath withdrew,
But from his blood, a flower grew.

The god wept tears, the petals kissed,
And in the bloom, they would persist.
Forever marked, their love divine,
A memory of a god’s design.

Cyparissus, of cedar born,
Whose mournful heart, forever torn,
For love of stag, Apollo’s gift,
His sorrow vast, his spirit swift.

In grief he asked to join the trees,
To stand with branches in the breeze.
Apollo’s love, though bittersweet,
Transformed him to a tree complete.

The cedar stands, its shadows cast,
The symbol of a love that lasts.
Apollo, bright as morning rays,
Holds them close, beyond the days.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The birth of Love

The Royal Octopus

In chaos first, where darkness slept,
The seeds of life in silence kept,
No gods yet born, no light, no sun,
But from the void, all things begun.

From Chaos rose great Gaia’s form,
The Earth herself, both soft and warm,
With sky above, Uranus bright,
Together clasped in endless night.

Then Eros came with wings of fire,
The primal force, desire’s desire.
His arrows flew, igniting all,
From gods to men, to hearts so small.

He wove the bond ‘twixt land and sky,
In lovers’ gaze, in whispered sigh,
From heart to heart, his power spread,
In every union, where love led.

Thus love was born, through godly strife,
The force that binds all forms of life,
From ancient tales to souls today,
Eros guides love’s timeless sway.

©️ 2024

Poetry

Demeter

The Royal Octopus

Beneath the earth, the shadows spread,
Where light once warmed the fields, now dead.
Demeter roams with tearful eyes,
Her daughter lost to darkened skies.

The wheat is still, the harvest cold,
No golden grain, no tale to hold.
Her arms, once full of life’s embrace,
Now reach for Persephone’s stolen face.

Each flower wilts, each tree stands bare,
The bitter winds weave through the air.
Her sorrow’s deep, her cry a storm,
A mother’s love, without its form.

She waits in winter’s long, cold reign,
For spring to bring her child again.
But in her heart, the ache remains,
A world untouched by joy’s refrain.

For when the earth beneath is torn,
A mother’s grief is everborn..

©️ 2024

Poetry

The Titanomachy

The Royal Octopus

In ages old when dawn was young,
The heavens roared, the earth was wrung,
Titans and gods in wrathful dance,
A battle born of vengeance, chance.

On Othrys’ peak, the Titans frown,
Primordial might, their ancient crown.
Cronus, their king, with scythe in hand,
Ruled with fearsome iron command.

Yet from below, the thunder cried,
Olympus rose, its gods defied.
Zeus, the son of storm and flame,
Led forth the host, in power, came.

With thunderbolt and lighting’s lash,
He cleaved the skies with fiery flash.
Poseidon raised the seas in rage,
Tidal fury, nature’s cage.

Hades called the earth to part,
Shadows dark and cold of heart.
The Titans fought with strength untamed,
But slowly, their bright essence waned.

Atlas bent beneath the sky,
As gods above claimed victory high.
Prometheus, wise with foresight keen,
Betrayed his kin for what he’d seen.

Ten years of war, the earth did groan,
Until the gods had claimed their throne.
The Titans bound, beneath the earth,
Their rule now ashes, without worth.

And so the skies and seas took peace,
The reign of gods would never cease.
But in the deep, the Titans wait,
Their ancient hearts still burn with hate.

2024 ©️

Poetry

Hera’s plea

The Royal Octopus

Hera stood before Him, her voice but a plea,
In the halls of Olympus, she showed her vulnerability.
“Zeus, my husband, my king, my heart,
Why must we always stand worlds apart?

Is my love not enough, my arms not warm?
Why stray to others and cause me this storm?
I’ve borne your rage, your whims, your fire,
Yet still, I remain, bound to your desire.

Look to me, and see all I can be,
Not just the queen, but your eternity.
The heavens, they tremble when you betray,
Yet here I stand, though you drift away..

Do they offer you more than the stars in my eyes,
Than the love in my heart or my soft, faithful sighs?
Do you really not feel the weight of my tears,
As you chase after shadows through these endless years?

I’ve asked not for power, nor thunder, nor throne,
Just you by my side, and you alone.
For every lover, I fade in your skies—
Zeus, please, let me be the sun in your eyes.”

She waited, and waited, her heart heavy, like stone,
While the king of gods sat silent on his throne.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Petition of Hel.

The Royal Octopus

Through the veil of mist, she treads,
Where all light fades and shadows wed.
Across the fjords of jagged stone,
A mother walks, but not alone.

For grief, her constant guide and ghost,
Has led her where all lost souls coast.
To Helheim’s gates, dark and grim,
She prays the Goddess will hear her hymn.

Her heart, a vessel made of flame,
Burns with her lost child’s given name.
With every step, her body shakes,
But her love for him will never break.

The air is cold, the winds are wild,
Yet nothing chills like death of child.
The ancient gates of Helheim groan, But still she calls, though all alone.

“Hel, great Goddess of the dead,
Return my child,” the mother pled.
“Take my life, my breath, my days,
But let him walk in the sun’s warm rays.”

The silence lingers, thick and still,
As if the earth absorbs her will.
From shadows deep, Hel makes her way,
Her face half-pale as winter’s day.

“I cannot give what fate has sealed,
For death is a truth that can’t be repealed.
But mother, strong with heart so true,
I will grant one gift to you.”

The child appeared, a fleeting spark,
His eyes aglow in the endless dark.
One moment more, one final kiss,
Hel’s precious gift, a fleeting bliss.

Then darkness wrapped him in its shroud,
And silence fell, so harsh and loud.
The mother wept, but rose again,
She had held her child in Helheim’s den.

She turned and left that shadowed realm,
Her heart a bruised and battered helm.
But though she walks through life alone,
She carries him—her flesh, her bone.

2024 ©️

Poetry

An Eternal Love: Hades and Persephone.

The Royal Octopus

In the shrouded depths where shadows creep,
Where endless night and silence sleep,
The king of darkness waits alone,
Upon his cold and ancient throne.

His heart, once barren, void of flame,
Spoke only death, unknown to name.
But in the earth, a flower bloomed,
A spark of life where none presumed.

Persephone, with light so pure,
Her laughter gentle, touch demure,
A goddess bright with verdant grace,
Brought spring to every barren place.

But fate entwined them, night and dawn,
A pomegranate, a story born.
Through winter’s grasp and summer’s reign,
Their love would bloom beyond the chain.

For in his arms, she found her peace,
In her eyes, his darkness ceased.
Together they reign, a balance of two,
In death and life, forever true.

No chains could bind what love had made,
No world could part their endless shade.
For even in the deepest night,
They find each other, purest light.

And so beneath the moonless skies,
Where shadows dance and time denies,
Hades and Persephone stand as one,
Eternal love, their story begun.

©️ 2024

Poetry

The curiosity of Pandora

The Royal Octopus

In ancient tales, Pandora’s hand
Held not a box, found in the sand
Instead she found a jar of clay,
Sealed tight against the light of day.

Inside, the secrets of the world
Like dormant storms, lay tight and curled.
The gods had placed them, every care,
Each human woe was nestled there.

Curious heart, she turned the key,
The jar’s mouth opened silently,
And from its depths came every ill—
Despair, disease, and bitter will.

Yet in the jar, one thing remained,
When all the world was scarred and pained—
A flicker, small, yet shining far:
Hope, still waiting in the jar.

So now I tell of what she bore,
A jar of sorrows, yet much more—
For even in the darkest plight,
Hope lingers softly holding tight.

2024 ©️