The Golden Apple - precipice

The Golden Apple to she, the fairest
Cast. To beauty, knowledge power
From the squabble of these three
All discord reined in Anatolia
Troy now sunk, eroded stones behind a wire hem
What have we learnt since then?

All this epistemic force, all this beauty
Sound and fury of some new stirup
Other leap, the edge, the cliff
Above this gaping abyss we ask
Why is there still war, separation
A riven system baling such externalities
We sediment plastic, can price nothing
Cannot quell the vanity of power
Only swell it, at this hour
So close to midnight
Golden Apple in hand we ask unknown
This unresolved discord that reverberates
Between our dreams of late
Was it by Paris that it was thrown?