He tweaked a Herculean toe,
was booted into Space and
belittled by the Gods for
botching his chance:
catastered but cashiered,
stripped of glory.

Ashamed by defeat, dishonour,
he found, by some linguistic twist,
his name given over to
disease, distress and death:
no shell is thick enough to bear
such malignity.

The Dark Sign hunkers down,
too armoured to be hurt,
too hurt to care for armour,
hiding in the gaily crowded sky .

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