A day without a dark Greek tale Is waste no soul would ever hail. As pages turn, a fire scars my soul, Mortals chained by curses, black as coal. A nymph of Artemis caught my eyes, A beauty that lit the paths of skies. Callisto her name, heaven’s beam, Stars and mortals adored her gleam. A maiden vowed to stay pure and true, Devoted to the moon, skies’ silver hue. Her beauty drew the king of gods near, He forced his will; all trust turned to fear. Day was hot, yet she was cold, Bathing with nymphs, her fear untold. Her body revealed, the vow undone, No sound, no fight, the breach begun. Artemis raged, loud as thunder’s shout, Callisto fled, alone, full of doubt. Soon she was carrying a baby in her belly, Afraid of the world she kept things in the sea, Away from the gods and away for the mortals, Arcas was born, a treasure of her painful walls. Hera came, cursing the mortal, Her frame turned furred and dark, Silent, feared, exiled from all, Her memories trapped, her life now a pall. Fortune has its own tales and life too hard, Arcas killed her mother with bow bombard. Zeus saw it, felt so pity, Lifted them to sky, above the sea. Both mother and son, in the sky now are happy, Away from the dark world and pain of the sea. Constellation they are now, a true sad tale, Wronged by the gods whose path she once did trail.