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In a mist of sliver dust she came to me

With her breath as a feather…

Her handmaiden, lust.

And yet winds grip me in a vice of death

Up on Mount Caucasus

Her breath caresses me

As I wait for the eagle of the Gods

To descend in his terrible shadow

And rend my side

As he will do to eternity.

And I can see her now…

In her robes of silver spider web

Lips red as the blood the eagle draws…

Eyes blue like the sky above me.

Her hair golden like the sun’s rays

Her skin, as flawless marble.

Her handmaiden douses me in oil

And sets me alight…

The fire sears my soul

I wait for Ethon.

The flapping of his wings blows the mist away

And she vanishes like a phantom

And Ethon, with a glance of sympathy

Rends my side.