Out in the cold
Nohow to be bold
Fate be to walk
Havin nowhere to go.

Out in the cold
But count the hours
From sunset to dawn
Days till winters gone.

Out in the cold
Nohow to be bold
Nothing else to know
But how many below.

Out in the cold
Wondering coats
On the frozen road
Some home they call.

Out in the cold
Nohow to be bold
Til mornin of morrow
Til the kingdom comes

Our eyes, resemble still marble statues—both melancholic and
beautiful; they reflect the aspirations of birds yearning for an idyllic
sanctuary among the trees. The essence of our humanity aches for
wholeness, a desire to be a complete poem, even as the poet grapples
with solitude in their musings.

Burdened by their own dream's illusion, they don the mask of
the present, to linger in this moment, haunted by the shadows of
yesteryears and anxious about a future that remains unwritten to
our eyes. Thus, our eyes remain ensnared, confined to the now,
perceiving only what is before us, while the shadows of our history continue to linger in the background.

We may claim to act as deities, yet we are merely incomplete gods.
Forever yearning for what we cannot grasp.

Athena turned ’round her head
like a night owl on the sly
and looked up behind her
as gold Apollo crossed the sky,

riding with his four coursers’
flying gilded manes and hooves.
Their silver flanks and quarters
thunder across the earth’s blue roof.

The rhythm of their beat
stamps a lyric all their own,
blood coursing with the heat
of the sun-disk they all towed.

The she-god of the wise
observes this cloud-streaked scene,
the man-god shining out,
casting shadows ’round Athene.

Apollo’s path is sinking low
as the winter months advance.
The frost now blurs his glow
and bare forests fall into trance.

It’s in this creeping night
that Athena finds her time.
She draws her wisdom in twilight,
no need for blinding light up high.

For she shines not with a sun.
Instead she lights her own pathway.
By her craft and wits she’ll run
her own trail she blazed today.

There once was a beautiful goddess that was burdened by fighting in a war between gods. There, she met an arrogant god, who wanted to serve authority over a land the goddess loved. To protect her land, she killed the god, but was eternally cursed by him, so in the end, nobody would remember her. Nevertheless, the people that lived in the nation she saved venerated her, making the goddess their new found leader. Since many more gods and goddesses were killed off during this time, some losing memory of her as well because of the curse, she decided to retire as the goddess she had been and remain as a mortal. The cursed one would live in solitude, but still complete her duties as a leader. She had promised herself to never have any true relations with anyone, for it was not worth them losing memories of her. One day, she was tasked with a speech to her citizens, that would only temporarily remember her. While walking through the streets, a tired, female merchant bumped into the cursed. The cursed helped the merchant, who was struck with fear after walking into her very own leader. The kind merchant then exchanged her thanks, and the cursed one continued onto her speech. While she spoke about miscellaneous affairs in the nation, the citizens stared at her in awe. Suddenly, a god towered down on the nation. The mortal, still possessing her goddess-like strength, though not in the form anymore, calmed her citizens down by promising to protect them and everything they had achieved. Oh, but the cursed was terrified, for she did not know the worth of everything, even herself. One day, she stood in a large field, looking up at the sky, hoping for an idea, any idea, that would come to her on how to stop the violent god. Her worried expression caught the eye of another god, who floated down from the clouds. He had the kindest eyes she had ever seen, and the cursed fell in love with the beautiful god. The two talked, and he helped her come up with a plan to stop the violent god. Even more in love, the cursed one and the kind god parted with smiles. The following week, the nation's leader was tasked with yet another speech, this one to talk about the war. While walking through the same street, she noticed the kind merchant from before. The cursed one waved at the merchant, but she returned a confused expression and walked away. The cursed one paid no attention and went to her speech. Not as many citizens showed up, but she assumed it was because they were seeking shelter. As the cursed was about to give her speech, the violent god demanded to fight right then and there. She followed him to the field where she met the kind god, the one she unfortunately loved. The god began his attacks, but the former goddess just barely dodged them. However, her mortal qualities could never suffice to the one of a god, and she began to falter. In the distance, she saw the kind god. She yelled and called his name as she fought. He had a puzzled expression on his face as he asked the cursed one if he knew her. Her heart broke as she realized the curse had finally started to have its effect, and he had forgotten her. Frozen in place, the violent god put all of his strength into the final blow which killed the former goddess. As she lay there, dead and heartbroken, her soul materialized into one of a ghost. She watched the violent god seize her people and nation from a distance. And she watched for years, as one by one, they had forgotten she ever existed.