The Barrel

The barrel of the nineteen leven cold
Never have my lips touched stainless nickel
My mind was made and my cryptic thoughts sold
I pressed so hard blood began to trickle

My mind was in a world all too alone
My heart felt break from this evening of late
Had she known 'twas left here all aching bones
That I was left to my dishearten fate

Isolated I'd been this night of eve
This life had nothing left for me to see
Leave me so my broken heart can grieve
To this world must I been an irksome flea

Abruptly I did have my thought of last
The last thing crossed my mind was that of brass

The Lost Letter of the Prince of Thebes

Oh Creon! "I would call you mad, were you not my father!" (147). I, Haemon, have tried my truest to persuade Creon otherwise. He must have some kind of personal vendetta for that poor man Polynices. Now, my poor fiancé, Antigone, must suffer the unjust consequences, "that ever a woman suffered for an honorable action - burying a bother who was killed in battle, rather than leave him naked for the dogs to maul and carrion birds to peck at. Has she not earned a crown of gold?" (145). Why must someone so valiant suffer the wrath of a thick-skulled man? Ah, yes father, " You'd be an excellent king - on a desert island" (146). He will listen to no one except the pride in his own head. Oh, father haven't you read the stories of the Gods? Disobeying their laws always has consequences! Instead, you refuse proper burial to make an example of a man that was more just in his ways than you! However, I will not stand for this any longer. I tried to appeal to your better nature, but that only proved to fail. Never, "From this hour shall you see me again" (147).
As for you, my sweet Antigone, out of your beautiful resilience, could you not have been more subtle in your actions? Oh, you "poor girl, doomed to the cruelest death" (145). It may be dangerous to say, but I idol you more than the Gods. I have seen your immense compassion in burying the one you loved. I too wish to have this kind of love, so now I must say that I am infatuated with you. How great a woman is she: she who does not listen to the pettiness of the common woman of Thebes, but disobeys the kings and forgoes a task not even the strongest man could carry out. My heart is sick with love and now it pains me to see your stubbornness has locked in a prison of death. I shall wait here no longer for any other woman. I may have an assortment of women beyond any man's wildest dreams, but I must have you my sweet Antigone. For "If she dies, she does not die alone" (146).

With As much Love as Aphrodite will credited me,
                                                  Your Husband in death,
                                                                                Haemon <3