but my father’s face, and it was he
who Zeus was punishing,
And had dragged away from me
And I woke up
screaming,
screaming,
screaming.
Nightmares
For days these terrible dreams
plagued me till visions formed in my mind.
My father’s face and my promise to him
haunted my waking days now.
Madness felt close. Too close.
I was desperate enough to try
anything. Anything to help me
keep this fear and helplessness at bay.
Something to occupy my mind and body.
So I took ink and paper and began
to fill them with the stories
from Asphodel, from Charon,
the tales Pallas brought from his travels.
In my mind, I became
the keeper of all these fables.
And for a while, this worked.
The Awareness
formed slowly. As the edges of my mind
frayed with a madness that haunted me,
still picturing my father’s face,
I began to see strange threads
in all of the stories.
