Elegy for Propasia

By: Alexandrite Posted on: February 28, 2008

A lonely elegy heard upon the winds of the Darkenwood treetops. This poet has taken a measured risk in recording it, but trusts in the mercy of the Divine to distinguish between personal views and a gift from the Muses.

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O Propasia, spirit of Cyrene,

What became of your forest, now barren?

O Propasia, spirit so serene,

How is demi-Divinity faring?

Artemis, Nature's wrath, keeps you 'prisoned

Safely in Her vines, embraced by clar'on

Fire burning like the new dawn risen--

Like the pain of pois'nous wooden idol

Serving only Her because the mission's

Goals grant not an altruistic title.

Thriving city where artistry is born

'Pon ruins weeping for their seedless soul;

What help has jointure lent but vengeance sworn

False in empty oath? As you lie hidden

In a Goddess' form, so do the wood thorns

Lack worthy bite much like a rogue virid'an

Wand'ring wild. Dare you reveal your face

To the Lady true, when she had bidden

"Stand guard," and you instead have given chase,

Wreathed in weakness, to a fool unseen?

O Propasia, find revenge's place!

Pray separate your sense from anathema,

Break free caressing chains and hear your forest's cry.

May purest truth befriend you in this dilemma,

O Propasia, spirit long lost: never die.