The Prayer of Chryse's Priest

And from the trembling lips of Chryse’s priest, from swollen mouth, from shattered crooked teeth black with blood, a curse rose up like smoke from sacrifice of longest bones and choicest cuts of flesh that no mortal man nor god could long ignore, unless such man or god were fully sated, and since no god is ever satisfied, the curse awash in oaths and promises soon reached Apollo’s ears and he heard all.

“O Lord of plague and wolf and dawning sun. O keeper of the day and setting sun. Hear me O god, if ever I was true and sacrificed a spotless lamb and burned its bones for you, to honor you, O Lord of sun and wolf and plague, see how your priest at Trojan hands has bled, how Greeks in sacrifice have died within your shrine before my eyes upon your altars bathed in blood of innocents who honored you and died at Trojan hands, along the blades of Trojan swords and bronze of Trojan spears. Pay these Trojans back as disrespect deserves, an arrow for each drop of blood they’ve spilt until their city burns.”