“Is this the face that launched a thousand ships?” she repeats
In her sleep, again. Watching herself draped in the finest silks,
Her flawless flesh adorned with diamonds and rubies and sapphires.
The long, voluptuous hair falling down to her waist, swaying
In the wind and dancing to the music of a spring morning.
Her skin gleamed like sunlight, radiating warmth yet blinding.
She was femininity come alive in human flesh. Divine.
All wanted to be her, be like her, be with her but none
Ever could. Her aura so supreme that was matched by only one.
God of the gods, the lord of light. Her true equal was he,
For who could equal her heavenly beauty if not the male Aphrodite.
In whose arms she could rest her soul, tired from of her labours.
Whose kiss would break all the spells that were cast to make her weaker.
Together with him she rules the world, their eternal love her fuel.
Only in dreams she has it all, fake beauty and a false love too.
About the painting – “Helen of Troy” by Evelyn De Morgan