Left grieving and alone
Your sadness set in stone
Forever moist in the breeze.
What brought you to your knees?
Oh the pride in your joy
All those girls and the boys
Inspiring wrath of the gods.
Or maybe your fault was in fraud
To insult the lack of another
Even lower of fellow mother.
Nine of the stars that you lost
Shone naught in the glare of that pair,
Those golden Olympian heirs
Responding in kind to your slander
Left your life all the blander.
To suffer an unhealing wound
To feel the wind and no longer swoon