God from the instrument--valentine dactylic!
Fate in its Greek chorus tells of the idyllic.

Triplicate faces and serpentine veneries,
homage to odysseys, clandestine prophecies.

Thebes! Oh my extant, this plague exalts eagerness.
Pearlescent white-hot--the core of our wine-dark seas.

Stirrings where none should be, penance for revelries . . .
Sever the verse that determines the hero's course!

Pennate, the winged dash to bits on the precipice.
Cold Amphitrite cares naught for my tragedy.