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Bearing a Dead Man's Sword
As I walk out beside the winery
the mocking grapes, they hate my walking tone.
The cracks of earth lie far as I can see.
O tell to me, my Muse, Calliope,
Does destiny deem me to weep and moan
as I walk out beside the winery?
The fruit is false! It feigns vitality.
Two tiers of teeth of heat, they meet my bone.
The cracks of earth lie far as I can see.
O gods! I curse your immortality!
I try to squeeze some water out of stone
as I walk out beside the winery.
The rain will fail to fall, for I forsee
divinity impeding me alone.
The cracks of earth lie far as I can see.
The grapes of laughter state their hate to me.
The ageless vines, they stand up on their own.
As I walk out beside the winery,
the cracks of earth lie far as I can see.
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The poem morphed into a story of the cruel arid. Our protagonist is suffering from the extreme heat, as evidenced by the never-falling rain and the dry cracks of earth. Wishing to be a hero, carrying his sword, he calls for Calliope, the Muse of the heroic arts, and begs an answer to why his own epic ends with such a pathetic death.
His hope is lost as he eats the grapes, but they themselves are dry, and he feels as if they laugh at his desperation, and remain on their winery grounds. He revokes his faith in the gods, believing that they are killing him.
The purpose of the winery is yet at your poetic interpretation, but if you asked me, its purpose is to fulfill the metre.