Published August 9, 2010
The blood of my children is smeared on my hands.
Hera, divine and cruel. You will not rest until my body is frozen, grounded and gone.
Until you hear my voice no longer.
Hera, you witch! You unsightly whore of Hades.
You've forced upon me a wicked curse, presenting me a blade.
To which I have slayed my own love and children all for the immoral acts of my Father, Zeus.
But now, I will not slumber with the God's until my hands are clean,
and the vendetta I have put upon myself is removed by me.
The twelve labours ahead will cleanse me, and show my everlasting repent for what I've done.
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Hey there,
I don't know much about the legend, but I love this poem. A curse, I think it's good. Nice write but there is no true flow to the poem. Anyway, It's good and write more. Keep writing no matter what happens.
Keep writing,
Alicia.
Thankyou popatemyheart1994 whoever you are.
I love this and kudos to you for using the word vendetta. One of my favourite words!!! I don't know much about the legend, but I will say this , it is an awesome poem with great imagery. Keep it up!!!!
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Hi there, Gaga!
Well, you certainly show some definite...feeling in this poem, Bowie. I'm not sure if it's as good as it could be, though. I feel like you just said you were angry; we couldn't really feel that you were angry. Using description can help. I feel like this is just a bunch of statements, though, and honestly, there is no true flow to the poem.
Still, keep it up, and I'll see you around.
~Mizz
This piece seems unfinished I feel there is more to the story but it is not here. The last time I checked Hera was wicked to her husband's mistresses and bastards. Unless the man is one of the two. But I do like the anguish.
It is good, my friend. A curse. Hmmm. It appeals to me. Nice write.