The Death of Neoptolemus.

Oracle bade you death,

But in your lie is life,

Taken away before me,

Your unwitting role.

Blood all spilt for the line of the future,

In this alone your virtues prevail,

Taken back amongst you,

Odysseus' son so crestfallen.

Mists of delphic rites,

Compete for a way beyond.

Take your prize or meet demise,

So high and far away,

Near your heartbeat's eratic pulsing,

So high and far.

Wisk away by the end of life's mortal time,

Now join Achilles encroaching upon the sublime.

All beyond the dusk,

Pale in Zeus we trust,

All beyond the dusk,

And Olympus ever rising.