Bedeviled, vile for this lava ton spreading with its ashes; and here we’ve been born, spawn of its lashes.
Falling, most righteous Earth we quake, born again Titans. Melting hearts of flaming coal, these castaways of legend, braun Goliaths lamenting for their aged minds and broken hearts, heavy with their shame…once exiles of the sweltering blackness, the unholy Tartarus.
Poaching in the God’s memory, gelding statues most despised by us. Found already befouled as new Gods rose in their places, raised over us, standing in their holy silence whilst we fled.
Therein the land we reached, foraged by people unfamiliar to us. But soon the old storm God raged, and we were comforted by a staggering hope. And so we lit the fires of our return, trusting Zeus lay long forgotten.
Separated and thus spared were the ancients, as their lively cries were once and now reduced to whispers, cold now in their graves. We sang, and our booming voices fanned our gravity.
So the sun fell in that day of days, and we greeted long-missed Nyx, mocking her later where man reduced her significant shadow. One thing proved indifferent to time however, as we were cruelly reminded, and these were the heroes of the ages; each defined by his mastery of good character over ill, resplendent in his virtue to help others. So it was, with old enemies pushed aside, the modern heroes of Greece paid their traditional respects, and the greater Titans were exiled once more.
In a land independent of its Gods, we were seen as a blasphemy…and must I recall our second shame? For it was our rebirth to test man, this jape brought on by those Gods we so conveniently shouldered aside in our liberation.
So it was that the Titans were, and just as soon went…only to be reborn as a test to a new faith’s resolve.
It is as legend says, “What came may come again, inspired by the hero’s tales arrived before it, only to one day become legend itself. And this is the creation of myth that all men might aspire to greatnessâ€.
