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Zeus and Hades Dispute the Soul of Man

Upon Olympus’ storm-crowned throne,
Zeus spoke in thunder, wrathful tone:
“Let me shape them, bold and bright,
With minds like flame and hearts of light.
They’ll build with stone, they’ll climb the skies,
Their dreams as vast as eagles rise.”

From shadowed halls and molten floor,
Rose Hades, Lord of Death and War:
“You give them fire, but I give fate.
Each heartbeat ticks toward my gate.
You build them high, but I make whole.
What good is man without his soul?”

“They are not yours!” the thunder cried,
“They breathe beneath the open sky!
Let them rejoice in song and feast,
Let love and war be theirs at least!”

Hades laughed, in low despair:
“And yet, they whisper me in prayer.
You give them hope, I give them truth
The mirror time holds up to youth.
Their gods may lie, their hearts may roam,
But every man comes crawling home.”

“They shall defy you!” Zeus proclaimed,
“With temples, towers, songs unnamed!
They’ll name me Father, King of Kings,
Their lives uplifted on my wings!”

“But when the wine runs dry,” said he,
“They’ll find their way from gods to me.
Let them rise but not forget
Their roots are born in ash and debt.
For what you raise, I shall receive
The last to hold them as they leave.”

And so the world was born of strife
Between the spark and end of life.
One gave will, the other doom,
And Man walked bravely toward his tomb.

With dreams from Zeus and dusk from shades,
A creature of both light… and grave.
This poem imagines a primordial dispute between Zeus, the god of the sky and supreme ruler of Mount Olympus, and Hades, the ruler of the Underworld. Drawing from Greek mythology, it dramatizes the eternal tension between aspiration and mortality. Zeus representing human ambition, creation, and divine light, while Hades symbolizes the inescapable truth of death, fate, and the unseen. Together, they mirror the dual nature of human existence: the pursuit of greatness shadowed by inevitable decline. In this imagined myth, mankind is not shaped by one god alone, but forged in the tension between hope and ending.
Simon Bridges Apr 19
Love's
           An unbound number
There is no three and a half
                            Or division
                                  
Love is a pacifist
Surrendered upon us
Our divinity
An endless wave
Without satellite to push or pull
 A wedding bouquet
Thrown to an empty room
A constant within
                               The state of awareness
I want to hold the moon, in the stillness.
As a newly healed being, forgetting his illness.
With transcendent secrets, long lost, and unheard.
Converge with the earth, my body returned.

It's not just the glow that my soul truly seeks-
But the calling of a gnosis, at its brilliant peak.
The kind that would nurture without word or touch.
With pulses divine, surging through me in flux.

I want to push oceans, form the tides Mighty sway.
As nova's light the way, even brighter than the day.
Not where I am dying, but drifting sublime.
Through a cosmic stimulation of emotions and mind.

To hold the moon is to be as the dark,
The Infinite void with no ending or start.
To weave through galaxies in quantum ascent.
To be untethered, unmeasured, and unbent.

For there's a place where echoes of gnosis still call.
Where darkness is divine, as it stands without fall.
For when all existence comes to end, as we know it.
Darkness not only lives but will thrive by the moment.

The stars told a secret, the divine know our depths.
Our intentions are gold. We're not at fault for our steps.
I want to walk where quantum waves ebb and flow,
And merge with the calm, only the moon has ever shown.

To hold the moon is to live as the night.
No longer chasing myths of a misguiding light.
To rest with the shadows, unobserved in their allure.
My failing charred heart, reborn by the nights cure.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
I want to hold the sun, as a flame.
As a shroud that no longer needs his name.
Devalues his origin, and the costs incurred.
I'll dissolve in the furnace, my body deferred.

It is not the burning that I truly seek,
But a quiet surrender, at a radiant peak.
The kind that evaporates matter aligned,
In myths of forever, leaving time behind.

I want to watch as light rays become dust.
As suns burn hollow, saturate and then rust.
Not where I'm dying, but morphing sublime.
A process dissolving emotions and mind.

To hold the sun is to grasp at gold.
Abandon the flesh, that's grown tired and cold.
To slip through the cracks where mortality turns.
And breathe in the silence as lungs start to burn.

For there is a place where the ashes belong.
Where shadows are living and scream with a song.
Where the afterlife is not just a realm I'll behold,
But a quiet ascension to a gnosis untold.

With stars I share a secret. "The Divine are forgiving".
Their quantum doorways are their gift to the living.
I want to walk through, with that luminous flow.
My transmogrification into the unknown.

To hold the sun is to become its light,
To no longer struggle in the dark cosmic fight.
To emerge as the stardust that I know is pure.
Lay the illness of a life in defeat by Deaths Cure.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
Malcolm Mar 11
Oh the Innocence  
That laugh, that wild howling in the throat of youth,
Unseen fingers scramble for the last thread of light  
Here, the angels are naked,  
no wings to catch their fall.  
The river splits,  
splashes,  
and chaos is born  
from the lips of the unholy, the pure.  

There be our Divinity  
slips beneath the skin like rust on gold
a fractured god,  
broken in pieces,  
spilled across the morning,  
the moon forgets its name.  
Prophecies?  
Laughing in the dust,  
twisted and torn,  
a thousand whispers claw at the sky  
but none reach.  

Imagination is the distant echo—  
a door slammed shut by a thousand hands,  
and what vision is left?  
A trembling shadow.  
What light?  
What reflection?  
It’s nothing but a crack in the glass,  
and through it, you see everything and nothing  
all at once.  

Oh but thou Morality  
it’s a rotten fruit in the mouth of the blind,  
an oath spat on the ground  
before it crumbles to dust.  
What holds us here?  
Nothing but the gnashing teeth of the broken,  
screaming freedom that never comes,  
but always dances on the edge of our minds  
like a mad bird  
torn from the sky,  
its wings flapping in the void.  

Oppression is the song they sing,  
but we?  
We are the ghosts who scream in the dark,  
rising,  
rising,  
again and again.  
Flesh torn and reborn.  
A shout in the streets—  
but where is the end of the road?  
No path but the storm’s eye,  
no sky but the bleeding horizon.  

Shall he call it Mysticism?  
A thousand tongues, a thousand eyes—  
but no one looks.  
The trees scream their roots into the soil,  
but who hears?  
Who listens?  
A leaf flutters in the wind,  
and the world spins—  
twisted—  
a thousand faces in a mirror that is shattered  
but still reflects
what?  
What?  
What do you see with blinded eyes !  

Where doth Nature find its whole,  
A scream of fire in the rain.  
Flesh in the dirt,  
bones wrapped in moss.  
Everything turns,  
and everything falls.  
Chaos is the language,  
and we are the words scattered  
across a broken page.  
No order, no truth,  
only the flood of thoughts  
rushing to drown themselves
Copyright Malcolm Gladwin
March 2025
Shattered Visions
He brought the sun into the sky each day
She brought booming thunder and rain
He shimmered like gold and smelled of wine
She coward in the corner, shrouded in pain
He prayed his light would be enough
to wash her face of the grimace of disdain
Her hero in armor
Upon her, golden wings does he ordain

The clouds fall away
His glow burning like a fire
Her resistance fading, fear dissipating
His voice carries her higher

When the sun and the storm intertwine
it's as if you're seeing the face of the divine
JAMIL HUSSAIN Dec 2024
In the depths of thought, I wander lost,  
Seeking to measure thy beauty’s cost—  
Shall I weigh thy radiant grace in silver’s gleam,  
Or count thy tresses in golden beams?  

Yet within thy eyes, the universe resides,  
A realm unknown where truth abides.  
Shall I peer into that endless depth,  
Or hear the whispers from thy cheeks, where secrets slept?  

Before me, the cosmos unfurls its face,  
But in thy form, I find the same grace.  
Shall I witness the heavens in their endless flow,  
Or gaze upon thee, where divinity doth glow?  

In thee, such secrets are revealed so free,  
As roses dance in harmony with the sea.  
Thy beauty, a mirror of the divine,  
A pose so perfect, it transcends time.
In the Eyes of the Cosmos 12/12/2024 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
Kian Nov 2024
...𝑰𝑻 𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑬𝑺




Your fingers traced the edge of my jaw,
and I could feel the galaxies ripple beneath your touch.

We exist in fragments—pieces of memories we never spoke aloud.

I think we’ve both been running too long,
chasing echoes that dissolve before they’re fully formed.

But there’s something divine in the way you linger,
like a prayer unfinished, a truth unspoken.

I let you in, just far enough to feel the pull of your ache.

We are nothing more than ghosts in each other’s veins,

but god, how real it feels


when your hand finds mine in the dark.
Christian Bixler Sep 2024
I see you
bursting like dolphins
from a grassy sea.

Crownless,
it is for the light on your leaves
I would honor you.
Silver rippling, with the breeze and the thunder.

And you among them
still, with gold on your bent
stalk. My heart goes out to you.
Linger a little longer, fairest
one. When spring comes again
I will look for you.
https://youtu.be/DVebPEyrors
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