I look up at her,

my last moments, I her arms.

My closest friend, a sister to me

I shut out the feeling of horror and pain.

Instead I embrace her gift to me.

It's ironic that I'm dying through war

with a true sense of knowledge.

Both of these, her gifts.

She will make a wise ruler one day

and many would be honoured to have known her.

Yet as I look up into her eyes

I struggle to fight the feelings of jealous

'Equal, that is us'

If only Zeus' daughter knew my bitter truth

from now forth. 


By Avan

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