And there I saw the fleetingness of life
As tufts of down float upward with gentle breeze

I laid upon my side in anguish, broken and humiliated
As a beauty bound by angelic yet selfish nature nursed me to health

How could I, the first of the gods, be bested by her?
But then, I did realize, the great trickery… And would learn from which I had not been granted to learn

She had taught me to weave my craft upon the strands of the world’s great song
As I ever pondered the meaninglessness of what one strived to be

Filling my cup with broth from marrow and root, she watched me with pity from the corner of her eye
I could feel her gaze as I spat up blood and screamed in agony and rage

And while I was nourished for the briefest of times…
I had yearned for the marrow of the world, and what took ancient root within…

© Sayer Teller