The Death of Paris of Troy
--dedicated to Lady S--



Laying down, the sky has muted all of its sound
And now, that sky above me, no more loud
Not even my crew’s shout
“Thou shalt die, Paris” – said Philoctetes
And that came right after his mouth.

Regret? After all that’s what I’ve been told
Tearing me apart with your broken tears
Striking me deeply via your tremble lean
Look at me not, please Helen of my sin!

Brought you here were my dirty hands
Kissing you were my faking sweet
Cuddling via thorough soft illusion treats
Pity me not, it’s how the fate fits!

And tomorrow upon your bed sheet
No more me, Paris tongue of snake
No more lies, faking butter cakes
And reality will back for your sake.

Cry not for me, the shining beauty
As Paris of Trojan doesn’t need pity
If it’s the death, so just let it be!
The fire may burn but I just don’t care!

Helen Helen, the beauty of Troy!
Fleeing fleeing and smile with your joy
Just leave here, don’t leave any noise
And be free, as Paris of Troy took shame not dying on his horse!

As that the punishment, just let it be…
because the old halcyon that I stole