I Will Build An Altar In The Tranquil Hush Of Night

Far beyond the dark shadow of the trees beneath the mountains cradled as they sleep farther still than where human eye can see an immense figure walks alone in grief. In the midst of this awful quietness the greatest warrior is lain to rest. I will build an altar to his legend and his name. I will light a torch to bear the beauty of his flame. Whosoever fought and died has achieved a nobler fame? All the princes of the earth with precious wreaths and flowers stop a time in silent prayer then rest them on his grave, in the breeze their seeds to give, no two are the same. Athena will sing her song and bring him great delight, for in her words eternal love still his heart to win. The heralds are trumpeting, the horns sound gay and bright, on the altar a cup of wine, forgiveness of all sin, in the tranquil hush of night Achilles enters in.