
A crack splits the heavens, rain pours.
Voice of Hera shakes the marble air.
“What kind of race is this, my maidens?”
Torches hiss, track drowns in water.
Crowd scatters, runners dripping, wreaths sagging.
Next time, it shall be done the proper way.










A crack splits the heavens, rain pours.
Voice of Hera shakes the marble air.
“What kind of race is this, my maidens?”
Torches hiss, track drowns in water.
Crowd scatters, runners dripping, wreaths sagging.
Next time, it shall be done the proper way.