A Father Watches His Own Son Die

Hector, my hero, I mourn for you dearly
The dark mist will never let your eyes see clearly
Oh son, how I raised you, so proud and so valiant
But soon you'll be tied to the frame of a chariot
Covered in blood of your brothers in arms
Driven by the monster who caused us such harm

How how I wish that my tears could protect us
And give back the wife of wicked Menelaus
But they just fall to the ground and fade away
As will the sun, shielding its eyes from the fray
When all of Troy is pillaged and burned down to the ground
And your mother and I are killed in our silken nightgowns
Son, do you pity our deaths in our sleep?
Or what damage your death will inflict on me?
A father cannot bury another one of his sons
As I have already buried Polydorus and Lycaon
How can I wash as you are eaten by birds?
Achilles will laugh and ignore every single word
Or cry, for that fact, as your mother beats her breast
Or scream from my voice as I pull from my crest

So now you run for your life around our great city's walls
As Apollo cowers from your side by great Zeus' call
But now you stop, foolish son, it's not your brother, it's a god
It seems you don't care, charging death against all odds
I pray you got to know Sleep, because his cousin Death awaits
The scales have been tipped and there's no turning your fate
Your soul will escape and your limbs will go slack
And once in the House of Death, you can't ever come back.