With my last moments of breath, warrior to warrior,
Iplead with thee O mighty Achilles, let my body be,
Untainted in death, not the ragged bone of sharp toothed spite,
Let me lie in dignity and pride;
so may son and wife can mourn me in plain sight.

No sooner said than Achilles invites a feast of vengeful knives,
The rancorous blades banquet on Hector with untamed delight,
For Patroclus a blow for a blow, revenge for how you laid my brother low,
He smiles smugly, savoring his prize, elated and high on his conquering might.

His final dignity is stripped away; breast plate, helmet and shield shed,
There his body now naked lies, a carrion meal soon for vulture and fly, 
Once the envy of every man, his outraged face now mounted by swollen eyes,
Achilles’ anger knows no rest, he chains the corpse to his chariot wheel,
And spurs on his horse to Achaean cheers.

Hector’s body drags through the dirt, stones and rocks finishing the knives work,
Nine times around the Citadel walls, the barbarous circus to the Trojan appalls,
Apollo weeping can bear no more, wrapping the body in a ghostly cloak,
To protect poor Hector from anger’s yoke. 

The noblest of the Trojan princes, no longer a man but a gruesome cadaver,
Lies in the dirt for fly and sun to savor, a mouse to Achilles’ feline torture, 
For eleven days more, the son of Thetis paws at his pleasure;
dragging poor Hector by rope and horse, around the burial mound of his beloved brother,
Until; enough is enough, the torment is over, paternal love comes to rescue Hector.