Work Text:
He lies, he lies and he weeps,
The horse licks his face, but it is futile,
His mind is long lost to the flow of the river,
It's waters claiming his sorrow as its own,
Not out of kindness but out of obligation,
He rises, he rises slowly, sunburnt and scarred,
But he cannot feel the blood coursing through his body,
He no longer cares for such meaningless things,
His voice bellows, raw and grated
But it is heard, It calls a name,
The letters laced in blood as he screams,
As he fights it's with rage and without honour,
For what is pride to a man willingly sold to madness and grief ?
Soon his foe falls, his body scorn,
broken and weak,
Burnt by its actions,
He drags the corpse in his pain and shame,
Carving it into the flesh that wears away,
The people watch in horror,
Eyes above cheer,
And a brother cries out,
Punishment was served but it was a merely gift to him,
For as he's torn into he does not cry, Instead he smiles,
He welcomes the teeth and grants them their feast,
As this banquet was one that was planned,
And one he expects to share,
A hero to the people,
A warrior to the army,
An enemy to the city,
And a victim of the mortal heart,
"Oh invincible Achilles"