To arms, to arms.

Lure me away,

to a bright summer’s day,

and sail to trojan shores

to hear all those

battle calls.

Paris shouted,

To me brethren to me,

protect me from all heathen,

For I stole their golden apple.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s