Abandoned Lyre Of Mercury

Abandoned Lyre Of Mercury
© Surazeus
2025 12 22

Trembling with mental hunger of blind gods, 
Phoebus claws at tangled vines in dry dirt 
to find conceptual illusion of truth 
that shimmers with vague energy of hope 
to verbalize with tongue-forged words of faith, 
gripped by addiction to sing from the heart. 

Shivering at blast of bitter mountain wind, 
Phoebus huddles in tattered wolf-skin cloak 
his mother sewed for him when he was twelve, 
then growls with fierceness of the moon-eyed wolf 
when Boreas charges at him with intent 
to bash his head with oak club of despair. 

Leaping with lithe aggression to escape 
head-bashing rage of the cruel vental god, 
Phoebus evades attacks with clumsy grace, 
till, hiding briefly behind fractured rock, 
he finds abandoned lyre of Mercury 
made from turtle shell with strings of horse gut. 

Strumming vibrant strings with intense respect, 
Phoebus translates heart-wrenching howl of horror 
to soul-rousing strain of resonant faith 
which stimulates his hope-paralyzed soul 
in vibrant hymn that animates his heart, 
so he leaps on the fractured stone and sings. 

Articulating vision of respect 
that presents hero who fights monstrous greed, 
Phoebus sings spell with heart-enchanting voice 
that torpefies Boreas with flashing words 
projecting vision before staring eyes 
that district his attention with illusion. 

Enchanting wind god with specter of power 
that blinds his mind with illusion of wealth, 
Phoebus distracts that tyrannical bully 
long enough with reverie of sweet pleasure 
to abridge distance with cautious intent 
close enough to thrust blade into his heart. 

Standing triumphant over the slain wind god, 
Phoebus stretches strained arms up to the sky 
as sunlight beams through freezing winter clouds 
to stimulate his deadened heart with hope 
which energizes him with sudden flash 
of frantic joy to celebrate his coup. 

Striding boldly across flower-lush meadow, 
Phoebus strums lyre of Mercury and sings 
heart-reviving spells that plant seeds of hope 
in hearts of people who emerge from shadow 
to celebrate fall of cruel Boreas 
with soul-healing feast by the wine-dark sea.