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Updated: Apr 18, 2021

I have never written poetry before, and this is very much a work in progress that will probably change entirely as time goes on. My love for the Iliad is limitless, I still to this day go back and read passages from it and I do believe it is the greatest story in literature.


The cries crashed on Troy’s walls like waves.

But Troy’s walls were made by Poseidon the Earth Shaker.

They had never been breached, and the cries smashed and broke, just like waves.

And yet the cries continued, unabated, never ending, Achilles had come for vengeance.

Hector had not known it had been Patroclus clad in Achilles’ armour.

He bravely fought, knowing that Achilles had never been bested.

But when the fight was won, and Hector removed the shining helm.

It was Patroclus’s head laid upon the blood spilled ground, rested.

Andromache begged Hector, ignore the cries, stopper your ears.

Hector did not want to fight, and great were his fears.

He knew he was Troy’s mightiest warrior, himself never tasting defeat.

He buckled on his armour and prayed to the gods, grant him this impossible feat.

Yet the gods, as all gods are, are fickle and vain.

Achilles was one of their favourites, and up on Olympus they felt his mortal pain.

Thetis begged Zeus to stay his hand, help or hinder neither one.

For without a god’s intervention, Achilles had surely won.

The two greatest warriors, from beneath bejeweled helms, stared at each other.

Hector you stole from me the only thing I ever loved on this world,

Patroclus my brother.

Hector replied without retreating a step back towards the fire.

And now you come to steal not what I love greatest in this world,

But my whole world entire.

by Neale Lucas

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