The Fatherland of Ephialtes
written by: Tasos Kyrtasoglou
The dead have raised me,
the kiss of life they‘ve given me
when naked I lay on the wet soil
before my roots could spread.
They gave me bread, a loan of language,
and an armful of open air
They raised a mast up to the skies,
a flag of purest white to bear.
Homeless scion of a pauper land
an awkward heir at best,
at fault for a life never fought for
a slave, a hostler too.
How shall I stand on my two feet alone?
What battle dare I wage unaided?
Ephialtes goes on impregnable,
while Leonidas stands dwarfed
The dead have now been gagged and bound
by seeds sown from the Echidna’s brood;
the people’s garments have been shared
by wretched scribes in servitude.
I am a playwright from Greece since 2016. Three out of five plays of mine have been awarded since, in different writing contests. In 2018, I have released one of my plays, "Virginia", in an e-book format, under the Creative Commons Licence. I also write poems and short stories.
Latest posts by Tasos Kyrtasoglou (see all)
- The Fatherland of Ephialtes - April 14, 2026
- A Plea - January 4, 2026
- Penelope and Odysseus - February 17, 2021
