when made of stone She holds a spear
a blade held tight to an iron chest
and upon Her shoulder sits the bird
sunlight fallen onto bleak owl eyes:
a daylit wanderer born for the crescent,
muttering softly into undetecting ears;
the fruit of Minerva flies with labor
She gifts her passion only to seekers
the devoted, the wistful, may hear of the treasure:
minds built lavishly, paid by truth.
only mortals may wish to throttle
the ichor that shoots through Her veins
or to speak through the mind
that buries all secrets
but Minerva, as always, knows better than they:
we shall not carry a secret for trade
for knowledge is flame––
brilliant and blinding, faster than flight
the bearers will fall, burning corpses
failed once more
under the hands of our Goddess.
i decided to give in to my nerdiness and attend an event that celebrates roman history + language with my latin class in school. there are a few different competitions, and one of them is poetry, and i really wan to win, so i'm writing a poem based around a "classical roman genre".
if you want to give feedback, please tell me––
a) is this worthwhile?
b) what words or phrases could be fixed to make this better?