In The Arms Of His Helen Of Troy..

He ran,
Seeking the dusky heiress,
Who was being chased away.

His plan,
Was not to harness,
But to unite with the night of day.

Mister light,
His stubborn foe, seemed to grow
And gobble up the ground below.

In freight,
When he lost his shadow,
He found a flair he was yet to know.

In delight,
Although still reeling,
He flew into his beloved’s nook.

Post the respite,
Exultant in feeling,
He wondered if they were off the hook.

Wanting to be sure,
Leaning on his dearest’s assist,
He vowed to fly her into greater joy.

In the allure,
He soared into a fatal mist,
Dying in the arms of his Helen of Troy.