iphigenia.
3.20.07

the sun smoulders, hot
upon the desert sand.
its rays glint on the harsh metal armour

he rises and salutes the gods
as she is led to her death.

a dream of honour, a gust of wind
leading far from secluded islands,
to glory and war.

her jewelled head is high; sweat beads
on her young body

as the altar draws nearer, a priest
clutching a long knife
shifts with unease;

reckless pride is pride nonetheless