Head of Hera with diadem. Marble, Roman copy from the Imperial Era after the “Barberini Hera” type, 5th century BC. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Even now
In the dread, dark
Quiet
Of preternatural night
I speak
In solemn whispers
To you
Some times
I rail as Hera abandoned
By Zeus
His myriad infidelities
Though I know
You never really belonged
To me
Some times
I rain down my accusations
My pain
For your deep dishonesty
All the while
Knowing you can never, ever
Atone
Other times
I might provide succour
To damage
That crosses your dead lifeline
Like falling leaves
Before the rank winter of
Your soul
Even now
As dawn breaks hesitant to
Grey skies
Ushering in cold morning
I speak
To ears that cannot listen
To you
(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
helenvalentina 
[ Smiles ] Very nice, my friend.
Thank you!!! 🙂 🙂
[ Smiles ] You are welcome!
Breathe deeply and keep taking the tablets.
LOL!!! 🙂 🙂
So heart-breaking wow gorgeous poem Helen
Thank you!! 🙂 🙂
While emotion is the voice in this piece I was immediately struck by the wording and phrasing germane to expressing it. Your chosen terminology conveys the range of feelings being articulated, even as they run the gamut from disturbed to empathy to pure rage. Very capably accomplished Helen. I am also enjoying your series of Grecian muse influences and look forward to hearing more from them,
I wonder if in a previous life you were Muse to Congreve when he wrote The Mourning Bride (“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned/Nor hell a fury like…” etc.)? 😉
Thanks Mike – who knows re former lives but that is a very flattering suggestion so thank you, that is very kind!! 🙂 🙂
so, so powerful. Great work.
Thanks so much!! 🙂 🙂