I know I was wrong in doing so,

but I did it anyway.

I left for battle in your place,

knowing I would never come back.

 

And so, here I am.

Waiting...

Waiting for the day

that I can move on.

Waiting for the day

that you too, can move on

from my death.

 

But even when you died,

I was still waiting.

Waiting by your grave,

hoping I could feel your presence.

 

As the years go by,

I saw your son,

and he is as cruel as our men

had described him to be.

He had your eyes,

and yet I couldn't find any warmth in them.

He could only scowl at your grave.

He called us fools.

Then, he too, had fallen.

 

Waiting,

I saw your mother, Thetis.

She could only hiss at me,

seeing my spirit by your grave.

"Pathetic", she spat.

"Useless. Achilles could have

lived in Scyros as girl.

He could have lived."

She lowered her gaze.

"But I suppose he was much

happier with you..."

She carved my name alongside yours.

 

Finally,

my wait is over.

Fading into the darkness,

I was welcomed by

your warm embrace once more.