an "octosyllabic sextilla"
Venus took on a mortal form
descending through sidereal storm.
She thought to walk among mankind
upon that green and peaceful star
so pleasant-looking from afar
where Man and Woman are confined.
Great Mars had begged her not to go
but he was very biased so
she kissed his cheek and turned away
to start her sojourn down below.
"I am of chaos born, you know"
was all the Goddess had to say.
With storm clouds closing in her track
ominous behind her back,
serenely swept Euronome
until her feet were on firm ground
and her stability was found
she rests beneath a shady tree.
Her journey covered many lands
from mountaintops to desert sands.
She saw white crosses row on row
each one had marked a violent death
so many that they took her breath,
but onward still she had to go.
Venus traveled far and wide
where wives had mourned and children cried.
To places where indignities
to quick and dead was much the norm,
where cruelties of every form
drew strength from human frailties.
She joined the tourists as they walked
where once the Nazi evil stalked
through Bergen-Belsen's chilling dawn
and under Auschwitz' lying arch
where still the Jewish spirits march
and "genocide", the word, was born.
Venus noticed little ones
that staggered under loaded guns
in Africa; their eyes were void,
their bodies young, their faces old.
The sight had made her blood run cold,
so many with their youth destroyed.
Cambodia was next for her,
horrendous sights, a frightful blur
of bleached, white skulls and bones heaped high.
She wept that life had been so cheap,
that animosity ran deep,
it made the goddess Venus cry.
In Ireland she took pleasure in
the peace where once great strife had been
but even there the fragile truce
could shatter in a moment's span
creating death for boy and man,
once more the dogs of war let loose.
Struggling back to Mars' side
As she climbed the goddess cried.
Her tears were bitter, freely shed
and unashamedly she wept.
That man could never peace accept
was such a cruel path to tread.