That was what he wanted.
Fighting at the foot of a temple dedicated to Apollo
Alongside his comrades,
He slayed all
With his Anaklusmos.
Victory was his
And he knew it.
His people went in to raid the temple
While he stood next to the statue of Apollo
T’was made of pure gold.
He thought to himself,
Slashing at the head
It topled and clancked down the steps.
Looking up ahead,
His enemies still poured in,
The horses raced towards his direction.
A moving target was always difficult
But that was what people proclaimed.
Nothing was a challenge.
Life was a game
And he stood at the centre of that battlefield
As war raged around him.
His throw was going to be next to impossible…
But the javeline was in his hand,
His target a mile away.
With precise aim
The javeline flew through the air,
Piercing the heart of the second leader.
The troop faultered,
But did not stop.
He stood with pride
On the highest step.
A look of arrogance displayed on his face,
Watching them close in.
He lured them into the temple,
An empty temple was what they saw.
When suddenly they were attacked.
Fought his way towards the warrior.
He stood there
In wait for the leader.
He did not want to fight him
It was too early in the morning to kill Royal Blood
Prince of Troy
Was on his own.
His people were dead at the hands of the warrior,
The warrior who was showing mercy to him.
‘Leave this land’
He told the warrior.
‘A war over love if foolish’
‘I do not fight this war for love,
Love is for mortals.
I want immortality.’
With those words,
The prince was spared.
‘His name is Achilles’
Hector told his father,
‘One of the greatest warriors man has ever laid eyes upon’