Sonnet to Prometheus

I mourn for you my dear Prometheus
The eagle picks your liver by the dawn
They’ve fettered you on rocks for bringing us
The gift of fire with which blood we’ve drawn
For love you chose to face the wrath of God
Ambrosial nectar but a vanity
Yet brothers walk upon the land unshod
On brothers now below humanity
I wonder now if Zeus upon his throne
Is laughing at the self destructive race
That we’ve become with fire that we hone
At dangerously hedonistic pace
I mourn with you my dear Prometheus
For flames that now consume the likes of us


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