Misogyny

(This is bad poetry, okay. And yes, I know it sucks. Can't be helped)

Talk to me not of woman’s beauty,
Nor of damsels in distress.
Maidens trapped in lofty towers are best left unrescued.
Aphrodite’s painted charms
Sicken my soul to its very depths.
Aries’ desires at least are honest
Though the god, in passion,
May ravage and hurt.
So sing, if you must, of the greatest wars,
And the greater men who fought them.
Tell of bloodstained skin and battered armour,
And thy listener shall remain entranced.
I desire in bed a battle mate,
Not some wench who’ll faint at the sight of blood.
Nay, nor an Amazon,
Disfigured and twisted out of shape,
Wielding weapons with slender hands.
I need not an opposite, but a mirror
Whose desires reflect my own.
Not some fragile, lovely girl, spinning
Webs of intrigue to ensnare my senses
But a warrior of great renown,
Whose livid wounds of his victories tell.
Sing, bard, to the tune of Achilles’ ancient lyre
That e’en noble Patroklos charmed.
This night, at least, abandon the trinkets
Of lying Alexandros, whose sins toppled great Illium’s walls.