Heracles

On a couple of occasions I’ll imagine him as a proud Greek hero,
Only a mere eighteen years of age,
Who has been sent down from the thunderous white clouds of the heavens
To fight the nasty creatures that lurk the earth
With his courage, determination, and incredible strength.
Who fights the vicious crab that aids the slithering serpent.
Who kills the giant crab with a mighty blow to the shell,
Splattering its brains about the once-pale floor.
Who, despite a bloody battle, pities the death of a living thing.

But that is not the case.
The crab took ahold of its prey
Claw wrapped tight around the leg
Blood dribbling down
And instead won the battle.

He had experienced excitement and despair.
He had friends who were truly there to support him and his battle.
He lived a full life, from birth to adulthood.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741