A thousand ships approached the shores of Troy.
Apollo gazed down on their shields of bronze,
Unmoved by their reflection of his face.
Could he predict the bloody ten-year war
That would ensue? And did he care that many
Trojans, all worshippers devout and true,
Would die in hopeless struggle with the Greeks?
A thousand legions stormed the shores of Troy.
Imaginations fueled by dreams of glory,
From both sides thousands fell in senseless death.
Apollo watched, unmoved by human sorrow
As children lost their fathers to the sword.
He sent a deadly plague upon the Greeks
To aid one priest… but not to save his people.
The corpses piled up on the shores of Troy.
For naught they served the Sun God—selfish, vain,
Who cared not for his people as they died.
Briseis was from Troy, but Agamemnon,
His anger kindled by the Sun God’s act,
Took her from brave Achilles… and Apollo
Deserted her, which drew Achilles’s wrath.
A massive horse stood on the shores of Troy.
Apollo by this time had killed Achilles;
His tool of vengeance—Paris, Priam’s son,
The one who brought this curse upon the Trojans—
And yet Apollo turned his back and watched
As Greeks exterminated those who loved him.
This act assured Achilles of our honor;
Unlike the selfish god, he loved his own.