I just wrote this short poem, I hope you enjoy it. Originally titled "Two gods," I have renamed it.
COPYRIGHT 2010 MICHAEL C. THOMPSON. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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The wheel of fortune.
from apollonian discipline
to dionysian excess
his spirit is drawn
to fortune's caress
knowing neither and both
the listener fasts
to listen to voices
the wind suggests
the devil in one ear
a god, it's oppose
and stuck in between
a man listening to both
and wondering which
of the voices he hears
has followed him most
through all of his years
in Bacchus' dark meadows
he's feasts and he sleeps
a maenad in spirit
a human in need
he calls himself seer
of Delphi's grand halls
makes toast to the glory
of tall empire walls
he tears them to nothing
'fore building back up
and praises the chaos
he hates that he loves
while two voices whisper
"come back to us"
two gods that do beckon
from shadows and dust
in dreams, he sees order
of chaos made quick
a pattern sped up
made of living things which
bear burdens and follies
seeing god through it all
where only is darkness
man's fated to fall
the seer through windows
too cloudy to view
knows secrets of workings
so old they are new
and driven to madness
torn by two ideals
he frenzies to shatter
the fortunate wheels.



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