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Odysseus and TroySo many nights,
The dark bags under his eyes got worse every day,
Yet kept up every night to do as he may,
His dark hair went from smooth to rough,
But the smell of his odor was really enough,
Dealing with years of war, battles, losses,
By his experience alone he was one of the bosses.
The man was Odysseus,
His dark eyes once vitreous,
His copper armor dull and bent,
A gleaming sword to accent.
The War of Troy was not yet done,
These events being one to stun,
The musty air of the coast,
Everyone is as pale as a ghost.
Dragged from his home,
The place of Rome,
To fight in this war,
Like never before.
Suddenly, there is work to be completed,
Soldiers stand, up and not defeated,
By the purpose that they came,
They want to bring their homeland no shame.
So the man points and shouts,
Just enough to have no doubts,
That the plan will work, he says,
If not, there are other ways.
My fingers, calloused, skin bruised,
But all that washed away as the wood was used,
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More