But I have no shape or form.
As a disembodied spirit,
I am dead and yet unborn.
I have passed into Olympus
As was told in tales of old,
To the city of Immortals,
Marble white and purest gold.
I see the gods in battle rage on high,
Thunderbolts across the sky.
I cannot move, I cannot hide,
I feel a silent scream begin inside.
Then all at once the chaos ceased.
A stillness fell, of sound and peace.
The warriors felt my silent cry
And stayed their struggle, mystified.
Apollo was atonished;
Dionysus thought me mad.
But they heard my story further,
And they wondered, and were sad.
Looking down from Olympus
On a world of doubt and fear,
Its surface splintered
Into sorry Hemispheres.
They sat a while in silence,
Then they turned at last to me.
"We will call you Cygnus,
The god of Balance you shall be
Submitted by OptimusPrime at Thu 14 Aug, 2003 11:57 pm