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As Atlas attempted to seize the heavens
he learned to bare the weight of the world.
Such is the cruel fate
of love to scorn turned.

And what of all the legends of old,
of hero's tales from bronze to gold.
Why instead of stone statues
are cement hearts held
in every man's chest
while we lay old stories to rest?

The songs of sirens
swapped for plastic promises,
Heads of hydras
exchanged for two faced friends
as our magic morphs to cheap tricks,
all that managed to remain
Is an Achilles heel for sincerity

So when two souls like worlds collide
and create a place of bliss,
too often one bares the weight
of both worlds, with the burden
of unrelenting loss.
Noah Rein Aug 29
I don’t believe in myths or lore, but there might be truth within its core

I don’t believe in shadow folk, or people made out of smoke

I don’t believe in fairy lights or small gnomes wandering through the night

I believe they are allusions, all about scary humans

I do believe in monsters though, just not the ones the fairy tales show

Monsters can be many things - strangers, friends or even kings

Most of all I do believe, that inhuman monsters are make-believe
B D Caissie Aug 29
A tale lies hidden etched in stone, buried beyond a vanquished throne.

Its king and queen could not have known, the cost of a legend is paid for in bones.

Starry Aug 19
The Pleiades
Oh the Pleiades
The spirits of seven
Amazonian warriors
Who went into the sky
For protection against men
Simra Sadaf Jun 25
how silent it is, how still,
like the nights in my town,
what do I say, what do I fear,
is this town grieving, it is,
so is this poem, so is that man.

descending to Hades,
my anxiety is a mourning widow,
why do paper cuts hurt so much,
why are the lilies decaying,
“get some sleep”, says my mother.
Ken Pepiton Jun 16
we come to rest in peace awaiting answers and
I slip after to the land of Nod...

woke, for a joke, we hope...

we see dis
similarities, I am shackled
standing five ten before
a trio of judges

in wigs, Shirley Temple wigs.

I grow three feet, or about two cubits,
and I stare my judges in the eye

my chains expanded with me, as bindings,
worthless, I conclude.

I can just, if I wish,
walk out, chains and all, standin tall.

being holy is easier than being sane in interesting times.
un mented real ization in
such as these: do we rule or obey or is there
another way
would seem holy right, hidden, for none to see, save
who have been bred to the task of telling this story

holy story, jots, tittles, pimples and farts and all
standin' tall.

Drama of dharma, don't we know more good than evil as we grow?

Who would hinder knowing growing good?
An evil being, or a lie believed?

The lie, right? I know, Easy.
Answers come so easy some times, we forget the questions
on the test.
While watching n the name of the rose on sundance channel, imagining feeling waves from 1327
Arrow May 19
I look around and all I see
Is an endless world of blue
And I think,
Can I sail to the world's end ?
But then I realize
It is an endless world
The earth ain't flat
And life ain't myths.
dana hughes Mar 24
tracking hooves
hands gripping persephone's fruit
white dress trailing

she's shining
angelic, surreal, her light smothering the dark
nature's peace untouched as she steps through

a ghost of what once was

green melts to grey

her light fades.
they say unicorns are guardian spirits of nature
Graff1980 Mar 4
Old one-eyed jack,
old all father
dressed in
****** black,
walking down
a windy path
while Fenris
nibbles on his chains
and the Midgard serpent
goes on searching
the tree of life
for something
like an apple
to sink his fangs

Slipperier than
all his other
trickster friends
doesn’t make amends
just contends
with puckish trends
acting like a nave,
a slave
to playful

And all those
valiant Valkyrie,
well I would concede
going to the halls
to drinks some mead
but I am not a warrior
just a very bad bard.
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