Some Kind Of Truth Poem by Christopher Fladd

Without feeling the two parted,
to find only the bitter cold beside them.
Too soon would seem Eros did not mean
for them,
so 'twas to obscurity, the fantasy,
whimsical Hypnos had made for him.

So on she went to her palace within deserts of sand,
and he to be as the albatross fleeing the land.
Of her was not known for he tried to forget
though the mark on his flesh would never relent
of the struggle and triumph, the blood and the silence,
the two had enjoyed in Apollo's varietie,
after all the ordeal was solely poetry.