Bagoas the Younger

I stand alone, watching

the young girls and boys.

They shamelessly gossip

about my duties.

If only they knew.

I was taken against my will—

sold and bought, sold and bought.

My beauty, far beyond other youths’,

became a curse.

King Darius III took me from this cycle.

I serve the harem quietly

but the evening always

Takes an envious turn.

Brought to the king’s chambers,

as a toy for the bed.

Everyone thought it a blessing

to hold Darius’ favor. 

None thought it a trap.

But I felt as if in a prison.

Betrayal comes in many forms.

That of my master came,

disguised as an offering.

Given to the great Alexander:

a servant til death.

Treated as a precious lover.

I watch the traveling gazes

of those who wish me ill.

Regret weighs heavier

than the burden of an empire

The things I’ve done unknowingly.

Or so I’ve been told.

I separated a great friendship,

took a woman’s husband, 

and distracted a conqueror.

But only I know what I’ve done.

In my time, I was known 

as one of his 

greatest loves.

But historians chose,

a different path than kings.

Slowly, piece by piece,

I was erased from

Alexander’s narrative.

But I am not gone.

Artists are piecing me together.