Tag: Love

Poetry

The Theogony

The Royal Octopus

In darkness vast, where silence lay,
The cosmos churned in disarray.
Chaos reigned, the formless might,
A timeless void, devoid of light.

From Chaos’ womb came Earth, the bold,
Gaia, mother, fierce and old.
She swelled with mountains, streams, and trees,
A world from void, a breath, a breeze.

Next came Tartarus, dark and deep,
Where secrets dark and shadows sleep.
And Eros too, love’s spark, was born,
The binding force of dusk and dawn.

Gaia then with starry Sky,
Uranus, her mate on high,
Brought forth the Titans, fierce and grand,
Born from Earth’s creative hand.

Cronus, youngest, sly and proud,
In darkness forged a plan avowed—
To rend his father’s rule apart,
A savage claim, a ruthless heart.

The blood of Uranus, cast to sea,
Gave birth to more divinity:
The Furies, fierce, with eyes afire,
And Aphrodite, soft desire.

Yet Cronus ruled with iron fist,
Each child of his, condemned, dismissed.
Till Rhea bore a cunning son,
Zeus, the storm, the fated one.

In secret raised, with thunder’s might,
He claimed his birthright in the night.
With siblings freed, a war began,
Olympians rose to forge their plan.

With lightning, storm, and Titan’s fall,
The heavens shook, the earth’s enthral.
Olympus claimed, a realm divine,
As gods rose up in holy line.

Thus born were they, the Olympian throng,
The gods of myth, in story and song.
From Chaos’ depths to mountain’s throne,
Their might and rule forever known.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Hidden Love

The Royal Octopus

In twilight’s hush, where shadows blend,
There danced a tale without an end:
Of Psyche, pure, with mortal breath,
And Eros, god of love and death.

She, a maiden mortal-bound,
With beauty rare and fate profound,
Caught the envy of gods above,
Yet knew not yet the depths of love.

Eros came, unseen by light,
A winged god masked by night,
He dared not show his face to see
What love in secret they might be.

With whispered touch and hidden hand,
He led her through a dream-wrought land,
Each night beside her, silent, true,
Yet always veiled from mortal view.

“Do not ask, and do not see,
For in the dark, we’re truly free.”
Yet Psyche’s heart, with questions pressed,
Longed to see her love confessed.

One fateful night, a candle’s glow,
Revealed the face she dared not know,
A god’s own gaze, both fierce and sweet,
And love lay broken at their feet.

The spell was cast; he slipped away,
As dawn dissolved their love to gray.
She wandered lands, crossed heaven’s gate,
For one last chance to mend their fate.

Through trials harsh and shadows steep,
Where gods would laugh and mortals weep,
Her courage shone—a light, a fire,
Born of pain and pure desire.

Till finally, through mercy’s grace,
She met her love in timeless space,
And as a goddess born anew,
She claimed a love both deep and true.

Eros and Psyche, star-bound flight,
Two souls entwined, in day and night,
Through mortal toil and godly scheme,
They found in each their truest dream.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Ugly Butterfly

The Royal Octopus

In a garden full of buzzing bees,
Lived a butterfly who felt unease.
Her wings were tattered, brown, and gray,
While others danced in bright array.

She watched them flutter in the air,
With colors bright beyond compare.
“Why am I ugly, small, and plain?
I don’t belong,” she’d often claim.

The roses bloomed in shades so bright,
While she would hide away from sight.
The sun would shine, the birds would sing,
But she was sad about her wings.

One day she asked the ladybug,
“Why can’t I feel a joyful hug?
The others sparkle, bright and free,
But none of that is meant for me.”

The ladybug said with a smile,
“You’ll see your beauty in a while.
For sometimes what you think is small,
Becomes the greatest gift of all.”

The butterfly sighed and flew away,
Still wishing for her brighter day.
She landed near a shady tree,
Where an old wise owl said, “Come, see!”

“Look closely at your wings, dear one,
Your beauty’s hidden from the sun.
You’re not a butterfly, oh no—
But something grander soon will show.”

She wondered what the owl could mean,
Her wings were dull, not red or green.
But as the moon began to rise,
She felt a change before her eyes.

Her wings grew wider, soft as silk,
With patterns lovely, smooth as milk.
She wasn’t plain; she wasn’t small—
She’d become a moth, grandest of all!

With moonlit wings that shone so bright,
She soared into the starry night.
She wasn’t ugly, now she knew—
Her beauty was for nighttime’s view.

The stars all twinkled as she flew,
Her heart now filled with joy and too—
She learned that beauty comes in ways
That shine in night or brightened days.

So if you feel you’re not enough,
Remember that the world is tough.
But just like her, you’ll soon break free,
And find the wings you’re meant to be.

2024 ©️

Poetry

Love Defined

The Royal Octopus

The sun and moon, a timeless pair,
A dance of light beyond compare.
By day, he rises, golden bright,
Casting warmth and chasing night.

She waits in shadows, silver glow,
With secrets only night can know.
In quiet grace, she takes her turn,
While he, in longing, watches, yearns.

They reach, they touch, but never meet,
Bound by fate’s eternal beat.
Across the sky, they chase and play,
In twilight’s blush and dawn’s soft gray.

Yet every dusk and dawn’s embrace
Is where they share a fleeting space,
A moment where their love is shown—
Two halves of light, yet all alone.

Forever bound, apart, entwined,
The sun and moon, are love defined.

2024 ©️

Poetry

Death’s Final Embrace

The Royal Octopus

She met him cloaked in night’s deep shade,
A whisper wrapped in dark cascade.
Her voice a plea, a soft lament,
“Grant me time that’s not yet spent.

“I’ve songs unsung, and fields to sow,
Dreams unspun, and hearts to know.
Hold back the tide, just for a breath—
Leave me longer yet, dear Death.”

He answered low, as shadows bind,
In tones that shivered leaf and rind,
“All things must end, both flesh and flame;
Life’s spark and glow are much the same.

“The stars, too, burn and fade away,
And rivers cease their winding sway.
The oak that towers, proud and high,
Must bow to earth, as all things die.”

She bowed her head, her hope unwound,
Her voice a murmur, soft and sound.
“Then lead me well,” she breathed, resigned,
“For I shall go, as all must bind.”

And Death, with sorrowed, timeless grace,
Held her hand in cold embrace.
“For every soul, a night will fall—
Yet in that dark, I hold them all.”

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Freedom of Sporus

The Royal Octopus

Once a whisper, soft and rare,
A jewel’s gleam, a glinting stare—
My name turned mockery in time,
A ghost of beauty, bruised, a mime.

They took my skin, my youth, my song,
Bent my will to play along.
In Nero’s arms, a love deformed,
A twisted bride, a promise scorned.

I wore the mask, the silken chain,
And danced for him, through fire and pain,
A shadow dressed in borrowed grace,
To fill his void, to bear her trace.

But when the fires dimmed and died,
What use was left for Rome’s boy bride?
No throne, no voice, no form of me—
The only echo was mockery.

So now, by blade, I take my throne,
A crown of silence, mine alone—
For in my death, my one decree:
At last, in darkness, I am free.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Lovers Fate

The Royal Octopus

In Alexandria’s gilded light,
Where the Nile draped stars in gold at night,
Queen Cleopatra, fierce and wise,
Bound Mark Antony with her eyes.

Two souls, ablaze, as fires would,
Drew close in lust and understood,
What Rome forbade, their hearts proclaimed—
A love the world would curse, yet fame.

Together, they defied their fate,
Drunk on dreams, both fierce and great;
But winds of war would twist and turn,
Till glory fell, and cities burned.

On Actium’s shore, the legions came,
With Rome’s cold steel in Caesar’s name.
Antony fought, but knew the cost,
That kingdoms fall and wars are lost.

Betrayed by fate, a fleeting breath,
They sealed their pact of life and death.
And Cleopatra, royal, free,
Chose death before captivity.

Upon her throne, she drew her veil,
And took her fate, so proud, so pale;
A serpent’s kiss, a gentle sleep,
She died a queen the gods would keep.

No chain of Rome, no victor’s claim,
Could bind her heart or mar her name;
In death, she rose, beyond defeat—
A sovereign spirit, fierce and sweet

2024 ©️

Poetry

Demeter & Persephone

The Royal Octopus

In fields where golden grains unfold,
Demeter wanders, strong and bold.
With hands that till and seeds that sow,
She watches over life’s soft glow.

But far beneath, in shadowed halls,
Where no sun shines, nor sparrow calls,
Her daughter waits, in quiet bloom,
In Hades’ dark and silent room.

Persephone, with eyes of night,
Once full of spring and meadow light,
Now walks among the shaded dead,
With iron crown upon her head.

Each year her mother grieves anew,
The earth grows cold, the sky dims blue;
For as the maiden leaves her side,
The world becomes a barren tide.

Yet spring returns, with her sweet grace,
A burst of life, a warm embrace.
The earth awakens, soft and green,
For mother and her cherished queen.

So seasons turn, a sacred round,
In loss, in love, the world is bound;
For death may part, yet love remains,
In flowers sprung from winter’s chains.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Wild God’s song

The Royal Octopus

In twilight woods where shadows sway,
The pipes of Pan begin to play,
A haunting tune, both wild and free,
That stirs the soul of land and sea.

His hooves strike earth, his breath the breeze,
That whispers through the ancient trees.
With curling horns and eyes of flame,
He dances, calling out his name.

Pan, the wild, the untamed god,
Who roams the fields where mortals trod,
With laughter fierce, he claims the glen,
The untamed heart of beasts and men.

The nymphs will join, the streams will sing,
And all the earth begins to ring.
For Pan, the wild, commands it so,
In moonlit paths where rivers flow.

Yet fear him too, in darkest night,
For Pan’s embrace is pure delight,
But chaos dwells within his eyes—
Where joy and madness intertwine.

In hills and hollows, meadows wide,
The echoes of his music hide.
And those who hear may never be
The same beneath his ancient tree.

2024 ©️

Poetry

Life & Death; Eternal Love

The Royal Octopus

Life and Death, eternal pair,
Locked in love beyond compare.
Life, with breath, begins the tale,
In every heartbeat, every sail.

With each dawn, Life paints the skies,
In laughter, tears, in dreams that rise.
She gives, she grows, she builds anew,
In every soul she whispers through.

Yet in her heart, a quiet knowing,
That every gift she sends is glowing,
Not just for the world’s embrace,
But for her lover’s darkened grace.

Death stands waiting, calm and still,
With open arms, with gentle will.
He does not take, he does not steal,
He holds the truth Life dares not feel.

For every soul Life spins and weaves,
In time, she gives, she softly leaves,
A precious gift to Death’s cold hands,
A bond that only they understand.

And Death, though feared, does not destroy,
He holds each soul like fragile joy.
In endless silence, love is deep,
Where souls are cherished, there they sleep.

Together, Life and Death entwine,
A dance of love, a line divine.
For in the end, what Life bestows,
Death cradles gently, as it goes.

2024 ©️