Dr. Zeus – Book I – Canto XXX

Of the worst of the worst
In which I’m well versed
Of no good at all
And how heroes do fall
Of the bad that they do
The lives they eschew
Of the pain that they bring
On which many do sing
-Oh Halcyon Muses nine-
For you version I simply haven’t the time
Though I know you well could this tell
Their egos I wish to quell
And to show how imperfect they are
No ill deed will I now bar
And while ‘tis true that you do know each one
Destroying their image is my kind of fun

They’ll Have to Wait, Those With Great Fate

Then the age of heroes’ did rise
The one that so many do prize

For ‘twas then that the best did live
Those to whom most honour you give

And they all, each man, one way or another
Call Deucalion father and Pyrrha their mother

For from those two did the great men descend
Those ‘pon whom so many depend

For much good these men did do
Many great deeds did they see through

Ah, the tales that do from them bloom
So much of myth do they consume

But which to sing here at the start
From which one, first, shall we take heart

Perhaps the madness of great Heracles
That story which does well Hera please

Megara, his wife, as well as their sons
Oh the horror that does to them come

For Hera did hate him, despite all our need,
For Alcmene, my libido, had freed

So sickened soul she did with him afflict
And great pain he did then inflict

His sons he cooked in foul sacrifice
And the fate of his wife wasn’t any more nice

For when killed he bled her out slow
And with her blood libations did flow

But when to himself my son did return
He cared only ‘bout the pollution he’d earned

He cared not that his beloved was lost
But only what for him it would cost

Wait – this is no tale of a good and great deed
But Justice showing she doesn’t men lead

For even he, the hero that’s best
Can easily fail a just moral test

Though he lacked over what he’d become
No remorse had he for what he had done

And this tale’s the type I wished not to tell
I hoped for one to make the heart swell

So let’s now, instead, move onto another
And see how Cartridge did never recover

For Aeneas, so loved by that empire great,
Did terrible things in pursuit of his fate

And in that city he stayed for a while
As Dido, the Queen, he could always make smile

As for quite a long while she’d been all on her own
For political purpose she’d not take men to her home

She couldn’t upset the balance of power
But her love of Aeneas was fine to let flower

For while it proved her reasons untrue
The delicate balance it wouldn’t undo

But he for his destiny continued to quest
So he left her to the fury of all of the rest

And when she went up – confronted that man
He said no true joining did ever he plan

For though of marriage he went through each motion
He, in his heart, had no such devotion

He did not care that her peace he destroyed
He simply cared that himself he enjoyed

Thus her last choice was to herself kill
But not even then did he care still

But once more – alas! – I fail at my task
For ‘tis in glory that I wanted to bask

I wished to sing of all of their good
To make sure their greatness was full understood

So now I’ll sing of the start of the best
The first of the house of that wonderful quest

Tantalos, in fact another son of my own,
Once did welcome us into his home

I, my brothers, all us were there
And for each of us he’d laid out a chair

Out before us he spread a great feast
One like Lycaon’s, that least holy beast

For he’d slaughtered Pelops his one only son
And that meal is what did of him come

This transgression, it was simply too much
His parentage, this time could not be a crutch

So we chose to place him in Tartaros low
And to punish let his hunger fester and grow

For grapes in perpetua hung over his head
There just to increase his longing and dread

For when he tries on them to feed
Away, always, do they recede

And if from the river he does try to drink
From him it will consistently shrink

Wait – stop – to the bad I did turn
And these tales aren’t for what I do yearn

But that one, the last that I told
Only one way did it have to unfold

That makes me think that ‘tis what I should tell
As it seems I continue to on sadness dwell

Oh for those heroes do all seem the same
They ignore how for others they cause untold pain

So let us leave them – examine one other’s life
And see how a hero did fill it with strife

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