
I am her, Queen on Olympus, mother of all
There is nothing I wouldn't give to my fruits, I'd even gift them the sun
I tend to push things over the top, without me , iron would rust
Even responsibilities that aren't mine are around my neck like a cord
I tend to think and then think, thinking so more, I am always thinking
Then I meddle and try to control from the heavens, self-taught puppeteer
I have suffered the wrath of Zeus, Gaia played her part too
Perseus watched, so I guess he got scarred, possibly. I am not sure
I have dropped every sweat and hard-work, so that Olympus could take this form
Sometimes I feel I have to do all, like i have got to show I am that strong
As a goddess, I tend to hear and talk a lot but listening is my flaw
I throw punches, external parties come, I have to get them involved
Lined my fruits, assigned them to their roles, they better ask no questions
I trust them to take their own path, if only it matches mine
I don't see what I am doing wrong, it's the instinct, is it not?
I deserve a toast with the finest wine, I only take them in a golden cup
I did give Big guy the wheels but I am the keeping gear and the pads
Currency, is the string that's attached to the fleet I command
Then I cry when everything goes south, calculations faltered
All I do, I do it out of love, doesn't matter if it comes with great hurt
Can you blame me? My sibling gods don't eat at the same table
I don't want that for Olympus, even if I have to over rock this cradle
Perseus doesn't talk to me like before
Far away, i feel so out of touch
Zeus is my love, patches or not, gift of swans or not
Love Perseus, Ares and Loki, Athena and Hermes
So what if I am being over controlling if it is done out of love?
Anxiety is in my blood, like traits, I injected it to them all
Oizys comes , interrupting this to tell me " i love you"
Tinnitus, that's what he suffers from cause I always bicker on and on
Like a disease, the anxiety spreads to his body, must have been tough
Now he feels like nothing he ever does would ever be enough
Last I heard, he now visits a guide
Where did I go wrong?
Communication isn't existent
This isn't how I pictured my song
About the Creator
Harydo Neon
I drain my thoughts through my pen. That's the only way I breathe.



Comments (1)
Amazing.♥️❤️🩹