Trojan skies

I’ll hold the lyre, though it mocks my hands, 
Its strings obey but yours, like shifting sands. 
Yet still it hums of stars we knew before, 
Their pale light tangled on the ocean's shore. 

I’ll trace your name in fig leaves’ tender veins, 
Their sweetness speaks what mortal tongue refrains. 
A kiss once stole the salt air from my breath, 
Yet now I taste the shadowed edge of death. 

Your skin, unscarred, defies both blade and flame, 
Yet pride ignites a far more savage blame. 
What gods bestowed, their rage can still reclaim— 
And even love may not outlive your name. 

But let them come; their wrath I’ll stand to meet, 
Your honor held above my own defeat. 
No shield could guard my heart from fateful blows, 
Yet fighting for your truth is all it knows. 

Let constellations bear our fleeting tale, 
Of love that soothed where only war prevailed. 
Whatever end the stubborn Fates devise, 
I’d die your shadow beneath Trojan skies.