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Weight Of Forgotten ThingsBroken statues of forgotten kings
Lie in the dust of cast away things.
Their last thoughts said and their last words hurled
Their blank eyes now stare at the world
One was bound by his own peoples' ropes
And pulled down to bolster their hopes.
Another stood at the edge of town
Until time finally wore him down.
They will all lie under the future's feet
Tread on by victors they will never meet.
Broken statues of forgotten kings
Cannot see what hope their absence brings.
Mythology with a Twist: Meleager and Atalanta“I can’t believe you’ve allowed a woman to join our hunt! People are already talking behind your back.” Plexippus said.
“She’s very skilled.” Meleager answered calmly. “You’ve seen her in action.”
“That does not change the fact that she is a woman!” His uncle responded. “She has no place here!”
“I can’t ask her to leave! She was one of the first people to answer my call for help!”
“Who would want a woman on their team?” His uncle pressed. “And if they did, it certainly wouldn’t be because of her skills!”
Meleager felt his blood beginning to boil. He was head of this mission, he would not stand being told what to do.
The boar that Artemis had sent against Calydon was wreaking havoc on his father’s kingdom, so he’d do anything in his power to stop it.
All good hunters were more than welcome; what if one of them happened to be a woman?
Dexter stood in the middle of a pretty empty room with white walls, ceiling and floor. Some white desks and office chairs were scooted in a corner of the room. By one of the longer walls stood a big chair made of some sort of stone with blue pillows and a little table with a plate of fruit and a glass filled with some sort of red drink, probably wine. If Dexter had been a little bit smarter and known more about history he would know that the chair was a big throne that it came from the ancient Greece. Dexter had no idea how he got there. Did Chiron trick him? Did they poison him? Are they going to kill him?
The sound of a creaking door made Dexter turn around. A girl walked into the room. She was tall and had a slim body. She wore tight jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. There was something weird about her face. It was like a big and blurry mess of colours, so it was hard to tell what age she was.
“Yes, I’m ready” the hood said. “It’s all prepared. I
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