Blind Homer never saw the war torn plain
that stretched before Troy ; he saw no wooden horse,
or any black ships that left and came again
bearing those heroes , slayers without remorse.

The clash of weapons was not his to hear,
or the screams of a host of dying warriors , when
he catalogued the killers who had no fear
of enemies , of either gods or men.

But when the blurring centuries had passed
he took his lyre , to once again create
the dramatic conflict that would ever last
beyond the simple span of one man's fate.

His was the power of praeternatural art
to call into being the supernatural force,
those gods of Olympus : to harass the mortals' part
of history , explaining its natural course .