Heart tempered by the fire that burns within, the youth ventures out into the gloom of night. Ominous clouds have breathed in the sky and no stars dance on this night, only shadows in the corners of those weary eyes. Unperturbed and at brisk pace he arrives at the banks across which his supposed sire slumbers. A thousand bright eyes and another thousand fuming nostrils greet him across the black void.

“Beast, hear my words!” he roars into the nothingness. “If thy blood truly fills my veins, then grant me one wish.”

The eyes seem to eerily sharpen upon his slender frame.

“End this subjugation of spirit,” he says  “allow me to shine my own sun, and to give shelter to others like you do to your subjects.”

From the depth of his unconsciousness comes the answer: Impudent whelp! What if you crash and burn?

Not as words, but such a primal feeling of fear and dread that tears well up in the young boys eyes. He steels his heart, and replies with resolution: “I shall not fail you, but if so, give me to the heavens, so that I may shine my meagre light were you cannot, and aid other travellers in the dark of night.”

The youth kneels and softly utters: “Please grant me this wish, for you are my father, and my glory is yours.”

The Fall of Phaeton at the Bode Museum in Berlin

I went to Berlin recently, and fortunately was in cultured company, so that the opportunity to visit one of the exquisite museums of the city was not wasted. There, I stumbled upon an absolutely fabulous marble statue depicting the fall of Phaeton, which really moved me. A few weeks earlier, I had written somewhat of an epic poem (albeit a short one, hence the “somewhat”.) In the end I decided to merge this draft with the myth of Phaeton.

As for the results, well, you can be the judge. I wrote it because I enjoyed doing so and hope to improve by practice. Constructive criticism is welcome, sincere (if possible) praise more so, and anything else will duly be ignored. 🙂

Until next time.