Present Day: From the Journals of Aegisthus

　　Ten long years war raged across the sea,

　　Ten long years I planned my revenge

　　My faithful Clytemnestra ever besides me.

　　Blood for blood, life for life,

　　In shared vengeance lies our loyalty,

　　In common hate our love.

　　For that faithful day of Agamemnon`s return

　　When in his glory his death shall come.

　　That day has arrived: Troy has fallen.

　　Mirth fills the streets of Argos,

　　But in open celebration there hidesStolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

　　A hidden conspiracy within the shadows.

　　Through the gates Agamemnon rides

　　Greeted by crowd, cheer, and flower

　　Up to the steps of the marble palace

　　Where elders wait in awful stress.

　　They waited and they talked

　　In tones of ancient past.

　　They who are old remember

　　The sacrifice of innocent blood.

　　The hand that slew her,

　　The feet drenched in daughter`s blood

　　Walks soundly up the steps

　　Towards his unknowing death.

　　The thirst for blood - it fills the air.

　　It is in our flesh, in our blood.

　　Before old wounds can heal,

　　Fresh blood must freely flow.

　　The menace from the dead daughter

　　Like a death shroud there hang

　　Around her father who walked

　　And sang loud: "O victory mine."

　　With false love did Clytemnestra greet him

　　With words of exultant joy she bade welcome

　　"You who be our safety, our sure defense!

　　The sight of you as dear as land after storm,

　　As gushing stream to a thirsty wayfarer."

　　With joy he answered, with ease he entered.

　　While the castle walls cried for wounds that bleed.

　　A father`s hand, stained by the blood of his own.

　　A cry rang out - the voice of a man in agony:

　　"God! I am struck! My death blow, by my wife!"

　　The doors opened and before the people the queen

　　Stood tall and there declared in a voice sure and true:

　　"Here is my husband dead, struck justly by my hand!"

　　He fell as he gasped, his blood spouted and splashed me

　　With heavy dark spray, a morning`s dew of death,

　　As sweet to me as heaven`s sweet raindrops.