the gods

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They live, they soar
They let it roar, 
They're undone 
By a cinnamon bun. 

What is it about the might
That roars from on high
That doesn't account 
For the quiet guy. 

Or the lazy toad
Or stories untold. 

Why MUST they be so severe, 
Why must we all cower in fear?

Their hearts are bold, 
Their hearts are bright
And they do fight
The good fight. 

If it's a break 
Only I can heal
I'd like them then
To succeed. 

Strong like a mountain 
Based on a withering seed. 


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