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Upon a Cretan Wind
- Upon a Cretan Wind -
Gray and chill, was the day upon the docks:
The place where stood the darksome maid.
Hidden between the hill, and the old rocks,
Where the foundations of empire were laid.
"Atlantis, thou art no more amongst all men,
Yet something still, calls them away to sea.
In like manner, I suppose, to such as them…
I am called to speak many a fair blasphemy."
The maid turned from the rough Cretan coast,
These dire thoughts were so upon her mind.
Like a fading portrait, or a vanishing ghost,
She was taken by the fog; swallowed blind.
In a house wracked by disgrace:
"Sodom, how were thou so wickedly base?
I see worse in zealots whom I have known.
They preach the words of false intolerance,
In seeking God, they have lost Him forever.
I have stared at the Devil in His proud face!
I have walked, where no guide hath shown.
There is no difference in Hell's turbulence,
And all Heaven's cruelly merciless fervor!"
This was fully written upon the note she left,
Read: by her parents who so wept thereupon!
Sometimes it is too late for any comfort deft,
When those sadly denied, are dead and gone.
And a family, by guilt wracked:
Yet no living hand had scribbled that script…
For there did stand the drowned maid's form!
For who could rest in suicide's watery crypt?
When all terrible deeds must needs be born…
"Mother… why ever didst thou to judge me?
Christian, why was love not full in thy heart!
So come with me: unto Poseidon's company.
Mother… it is the time for us to thus depart!"
That sad house, she haunted for many a year,
The maid's mother was made to truly grieve!
At length, when thus shed was the final tear,
Mother and daughter, as together, didst leave.
Death mercifully ends all strife:
Her father searched, for the rest of his life…
But departed were his daughter and his wife.
The old sailor put out alone upon the waves,
Now Poseidon would so harbor three graves!
Once in a while, that same gray fog rolls in…
And a sad song is heard, upon a Cretan wind,
Of a family so damned: by one mother's sin.
Gray and chill, was the day upon the docks:
The place where stood the darksome maid.
Hidden between the hill, and the old rocks,
Where the foundations of empire were laid.
"Atlantis, thou art no more amongst all men,
Yet something still, calls them away to sea.
In like manner, I suppose, to such as them…
I am called to speak many a fair blasphemy."
The maid turned from the rough Cretan coast,
These dire thoughts were so upon her mind.
Like a fading portrait, or a vanishing ghost,
She was taken by the fog; swallowed blind.
In a house wracked by disgrace:
"Sodom, how were thou so wickedly base?
I see worse in zealots whom I have known.
They preach the words of false intolerance,
In seeking God, they have lost Him forever.
I have stared at the Devil in His proud face!
I have walked, where no guide hath shown.
There is no difference in Hell's turbulence,
And all Heaven's cruelly merciless fervor!"
This was fully written upon the note she left,
Read: by her parents who so wept thereupon!
Sometimes it is too late for any comfort deft,
When those sadly denied, are dead and gone.
And a family, by guilt wracked:
Yet no living hand had scribbled that script…
For there did stand the drowned maid's form!
For who could rest in suicide's watery crypt?
When all terrible deeds must needs be born…
"Mother… why ever didst thou to judge me?
Christian, why was love not full in thy heart!
So come with me: unto Poseidon's company.
Mother… it is the time for us to thus depart!"
That sad house, she haunted for many a year,
The maid's mother was made to truly grieve!
At length, when thus shed was the final tear,
Mother and daughter, as together, didst leave.
Death mercifully ends all strife:
Her father searched, for the rest of his life…
But departed were his daughter and his wife.
The old sailor put out alone upon the waves,
Now Poseidon would so harbor three graves!
Once in a while, that same gray fog rolls in…
And a sad song is heard, upon a Cretan wind,
Of a family so damned: by one mother's sin.
Published 13th Nov 2014
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19th Nov 2014 9:20am
I consider sometimes that Atlantis, Vesuvius, our own end could all be retaliation not for a world of mistakes but juuuust one real personal slight against the gods. Good write Jessica!
19th Nov 2014 10:36pm
Very glad you liked this poem of mine, Loki! You may be unto something there, my friend... sometimes all it takes is one personal slight to cause a greater catastrophe, since oft big things have very small beginnings, and sometimes not in a good way. ;)
