My Atlas does not wince
nor does he cower; he hauls
his burden, self-forgotten.
Hour by day, my unwav’ring
tower, with purpling shoulders
and crackling skin, within him
a lambent glow glimpsing through
the faults. My Titan is stout and alt;
I rest in his shadow which feasts on
fearsome things. Some simply hiss
“BEAST,” as he quakes by, but his
eyes are on the sun and his ears are
in the sky, his burden perched upon
his sturdy shoulders high.