‘The Charges of Patroclus’

by Cora MacGregor

He who once, child-like, wept, seeing needless

Death, now, clad in bronze, attacks a fourth time.

Ablaze with another’s glory, heedless,

Like something inhuman, like something divine.


In costume, playing once the hero, but already

The god. And dormant ambition is freed:

Instinctive, his spear in his hand steady,

As he splinters troops, fells men like trees.


Mindless and manless, a killing machine;

Fearful and fearless, from outside he’s seen.

Borne by an impulse greater than himself.

The impulse to be greater than himself.  

The Poor Print

The Oriel College Student Newspaper. Run by students, with contributions from the JCR, MCR, SCR, and Staff. Current Executive Editors: Monim Wains and Siddiq Islam

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s