The Pantheon

It was pride

that plowed the path,

and it was long

before the math.

 

I saw them as gods

before I knew the truth,

walking amongst us

imperial and aloof.

 

Some twisted our world

to their malicious design.

Others catered to their elders

like servants bearing wine.

 

It was intended that I join them,

but the angels turned me down,

leaving nothing but the demons

to carve my cursed crown.

 

So, I watched their marches,

observed their sermons,

and I watched their schemes unfold

like conquering Germans.

 

In the end however,

their caresses were corrupt,

and when our matron passed away,

Olympus did erupt.

 

By the time we entombed father,

our pantheon was no more.

We were many broken sculptures

decorating museum floors.

 

But before I did the math–

before they removed their masks,

they were mighty gods I worshipped

who’d do anything you’d ask.

 

I had to step aside though.

I was a lost lonely god

who was really just a man

pretending he wasn’t flawed.