In the light of myths and legends,
Stories of some heroes of old,
Who possessed powerful endowments,
Or so we have been told.

He who was said to spit fire,
Was once a vulnerable man,
He who was said to be immortal,
Was also once human.

Why isn't this transformation,
Prolonged to our time,
Or is our generation,
But a foam on a wine.

The existence of most,
Sounds strange to tell,
For if they were gods,
How come they fell?

What do they look like?
Where do they come from?
Questions go begging,
For answers at every turn.

I was told of a god,
With a lion as pet,
Human-lion friendship,
I am yet to see since birth.

Looking around me each day,
I see no such powers,
Portrayed by our past heroes,
As told to us by our Fathers.

Are gods really gods?
Or our own creation,
Out of fear, or of poetry,
Or even painted imagination.

If you'd ask my opinion,
I'd say they were audacious men,
Whose deeds were exaggerated,
And narrated with godly terms.

#El_Magnifico™