22 Mythology

On Mount Olympus, the Gods they do rage.
Without their love, the people need a sage
Who can lift them out of their horrid loss
And restore to them, as with a coin’s toss,
Good fortune that will last an endless age.

People cannot live alone in cages.
They must have the divine: a life’s wage.
In the sacred books, in time’s greenish moss,
On Mount Olympus.

The Gods give love or else a storming phage,
Within which no measure the pain can gauge.
What are we to them: only sweaty dross?
Or something else? We need a holy gloss.
Is all reality or but a stage?
On Mount Olympus.