I am the god of man,
I dish love out but it's just not fair,
I linger on this earthly sky,
What I yearn for I could fly,
I created them and all their feelings,
As it happens I feel what they feel,
I create men,
And make them who they are,
The gifted are my most prized inventions,
But I also love the women who love men,
For as I should know! They need women,
It's in their nucleic acid and blood,
Which spill all by my say,
But violence in my eyes is not necessary, but beautiful,
Maybe it's my fascination with physiques and deep red,
But I fucked up!
These men are in my image,
So I sought the god of gods,
And he assembled all us,
We conversed, rehearsed, and dispersed,
But you cannot create what's been made before,
"You have no mind!" they told me,
"You have no sense of creation,"
So I started over,
I imagined new innards and new forms,
I gave the world something they'd never seen before,
And when they saw it at first they hated me,
"It's bogus and absurd!"
And these gods, they like to yell,
"Go back to where you came!" they exclaim,
And I did,
I went back to the old design,
Where my creations cheered and greeted me with praise,
But not long after knowing who I was,
Those men I made before put me up and strapped me in,
Way up high on their mountain,
Because they are my children and I like deep red,
My own creations turned on me!
The very beings I was gifted to create,
And I was condemned to that mountain,
Where the Eagle ate my cold organs,
The world ate away at my soul,
But I still love them,
Every one of them,
Because I am condemned to the mountain,
And it's okay as I will be forever there,
That I am also condemned to care.
Спасибо за чтение!
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