Work Text:
In Troy he claimed his fame
But claimed his downfall all the same
When his paramour was slain.
Gone was the son that Peleus raised
Gone was the hero that Chiron trained
An unfeeling warrior out for the kill
Was all that remained.
Patroclus was no more,
His body bloodied and cold.
On the river Styx Achilles swore,
That Hector’s day soon would come
And vengeance would be his at last.
But once Hector passed,
Achilles hoped his end would come fast
And as he waited for death to find him
So he could join his lover in Elysium
He paused and wondered when an arrow struck:
Should he have chosen to be forgotten
Than to be aristos achaion?