Legendary (Shadorma)

Three hundred
They stood as a wall
Impassive
Fearless souls
Unbelievable the odds
Ones they could not win

Resolute
The Spartans prepared
Not for life
Not for death
But to do defend to the end
And legends were made

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50 Word Stories: Wood God Goodbyes.

His bones, the creaking of the branches, he shivers a mantle of leaves; the shush is deafening. A last sunrise, for the mechanicals approach, he soaks in the dewdrop day. From acorn to behemoth, sheltered to shelterer, he has seen it all, or thought he had.
The chainsaw cuts…goodbye.

50 Word Stories: Eagle, Ferryman To The Stars

Eagle, a proud king, wished to prove his worth. Unaware of passengers, he took flight for worlds beyond our own. Alas, too far. As his wings touched heaven, he had to return, but crab and scorpion jumped free.
That’s how the Zodiac gained two signs and all Eagle would admit.

Snapshots

Snapshots
 Memories in time
 Fractions of a moment
 Imprinted
 Engraved on self
 To reappear when needed
 The most
 Parts of the story
 That forms YOU
 Segments of collected stimuli
 That would otherwise
 Be lost
 And what a shame that would be
 For each of YOU
 Deserve a legend
 To take
 Carry
 Pack in your suitcase
 And travel with YOU
 To the stars
 
 
 

To Be Medusa



 To be unable to touch, to love
 
 Reviled, despised, scorned,
 
 Serpents for writhing company.
 
 To have lost all that you was
 
 And all that you would be.
 
 A victim of the God’s desires and jealousies
 
 Poseidon’s plaything; Athena’s bane.
 
 Cursed to never see another’s eyes,
 
 Then to die when she saw her own.
 
 Think again when Gorgon’s show
 
 For to be Medusa for even a single day
 
 Is to be truly alone.
 

 (Image courtesy of Chrisgiz12 on deviantart.com)

Flames & Fire (A Legend)



 
 At the end of the world
 Burns a tree made of coal
 Adorned with rubies
 A Phoenix made whole
 It springs from the spark
 Of that first burning pyre
 Fanned by the maelstrom
 A rampaging fire
 It waits for a knight
 Who is braver than brave
 To pluck off the jewels
 With aid of his knave
 Until then the embers
 Of all, was, and is
 Will illuminate heaven
 In radiant bliss
 
 

Hades and Persephone (retold)

 And Hades looked upon Persephone
 Through eyes that knew only death.
 He had no knowledge of beauty,
 There were no words in his vocabulary
 To explain the goodness of light.
 And the God of the dead wept
 Salted tears onto the diseased soil of hell,
 So that a river sprang forth in his name.
 And he who knew only the worst
 At last, knew only the best.
 Collecting sweet Persephone in his arms
 He called forth a boat and left his realm,
 And with it our own,
 Taking the woes of the world with him.
 
 (If only this was how the story went then maybe he, and therefore us, would have a better home. If only!

 
 (Image courtesy sandara on deviantart.com)