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Erebus
- Erebus -
Lo! Hear now the tale I weave of that dark goddess,
Dreaded by mortals of old, yet whom I walked with…
Hand in hand, each of us wearing our blackest dress!
I sing of Erebus, whom some called a god of the Abyss.
Yet either gender could she assume, and often did thus:
Beautiful one moment, handsome the next, always fair…
For in her darkness was a certain light one could trust.
An honest light, and yet of it did men learn to beware!
I, whom once was called a queen of demons, so right,
And yet even I did not gaze too deeply into her eyes…
For the soul of Erebus was as terrible as it was bright!
In the darkness below even Hades, amidst fiery skies,
Therein was she supreme, and none could touch her…
Except for Nyx: and of their union much was wrought.
None seek her out simply to of trivial matters confer…
For Erebus is darkness itself, amidst hot flame caught.
On aged scrolls she penned arcane lore and I learned,
Secrets that even my Olympian enemies knew not of…
Taught from the thought of darkness, as souls burned!
Yet even in such teachings I discovered a deeper love.
For without passion, fire and darkness become weak…
And Erebus was a strong teacher, never too wavering.
Before her even gods could become frightened, meek.
But of her fearfully lovely visage many come savoring!
I met her as an equal,
My spirit, equally terrible.
Lo! Hear now the tale I weave of that dark goddess,
Dreaded by mortals of old, yet whom I walked with…
Hand in hand, each of us wearing our blackest dress!
I sing of Erebus, whom some called a god of the Abyss.
Yet either gender could she assume, and often did thus:
Beautiful one moment, handsome the next, always fair…
For in her darkness was a certain light one could trust.
An honest light, and yet of it did men learn to beware!
I, whom once was called a queen of demons, so right,
And yet even I did not gaze too deeply into her eyes…
For the soul of Erebus was as terrible as it was bright!
In the darkness below even Hades, amidst fiery skies,
Therein was she supreme, and none could touch her…
Except for Nyx: and of their union much was wrought.
None seek her out simply to of trivial matters confer…
For Erebus is darkness itself, amidst hot flame caught.
On aged scrolls she penned arcane lore and I learned,
Secrets that even my Olympian enemies knew not of…
Taught from the thought of darkness, as souls burned!
Yet even in such teachings I discovered a deeper love.
For without passion, fire and darkness become weak…
And Erebus was a strong teacher, never too wavering.
Before her even gods could become frightened, meek.
But of her fearfully lovely visage many come savoring!
I met her as an equal,
My spirit, equally terrible.
Published 11th Aug 2012
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Anonymous
11th Aug 2012 4:43pm
Dreaded by mortals of old, yet whom I walked with…
Hand in hand, each of us wearing our blackest dress! Love that line
Hand in hand, each of us wearing our blackest dress! Love that line
13th Aug 2012 11:41pm
My thanks! A lot of poems about gods and goddesses will tell a story, oft drawn from mythology itself, but in this poem I was aiming for something far deeper than a "story"... more of a relating to the reader of a personal experience with a powerful (and in this case dark and terrible) deity.
