A titan. A god. A being above all.
He held the weak upon his back.
Forced to hear their simple cries
Forced to hear them telling lies.
Hearing them think they know it all
Hearing their cries as they fall.
Watching them waging war
Watching them sell their souls for a score.
Thirty pieces of silver.
Hanging from a noose.
Watching them start storms
Bigger than Zeus.
Trying to teach them.
Try to show.
But back they turn to the reticent throes
Teaching them the way, showing them the path
In his face they may as well laugh.
Patience waning
Muscles straining.
All that training.
Only paining.
Giving of himself to help
Only to be cast aside
Refusing by the best advice to abide.
The simple creatures, ignorant and weak
Pathetic and insignificant in the pictures peak.
So complacent with being simple
Not caring to accel
No desire to raise themselves
Allowing themselves to dine in hell
Not trying to raise themselves to being superior
Satisfied with being weak
Settling rather than fight
Never standing up, just being meek.
All of this on Atlas tugged,
Until the day that Atlas shrugged.
