In the same format
as the original poem
by John Keats
, here is one I wrote about an urn
' twelfth task
of defeating the multi-headed
(I realize the iambic pentameter
(Node your homework!)
Conveyor to the present of the past,
Mute time capsule of human truths untold,
Your story more glorious than can be
Expressed in the unworthy verses here:
Of what ferocious battle do you tell?
What frozen fight between two mythic foes?
What warrior’s strength undaunted in these depths ?
What dark ferocity was overcome?
What evil never ending lies? What fear
Drives this death-fleeing hare as it leaps on?
O warrior, applause not yet received,
Yet victory deserved you have just won,
Forever will you be at glory’s height,
Beast still subdued by your own mighty hands,
Your final task all but completed now,
Although none thought completion possible.
O monster, shame be felt for evermore;
Three biting heads and hissing snakes could not
Defeat the fur-clothed hero from above,
As armored troops cannot defeat the gods.
O Time, while ending even wisest men,
You fade not beauty’s work from ancient days;
Suspended hero’s triumph will remain
With monster’s shame on urn forever shown
In painted hues of yellow, brown and red
Drawn on by hands of those who are no more.
Your message, O great urn, will ever tell
This truth to those who gaze upon your form:
From only challenge does achievement come,
From only facing demons are goals won.