Love's Tears by Hephaestus

Onto a weary sigh from a saddened glance down
Staring into remnants of the sun's being
Turning and bubbling between stoned walls.
My forge and I, we know all too well
What a pain it is to have nowhere to go

My soul, whose villains of life
have wrapped their thirsty hands around
pulling and squeezing it through the door
of my open chest into this unsightly world,
Falls from my breast into my legs and the
roots of my heart haven't the strength
to burrow those darkened corridors for life

With a hammer and anvil, what magic a man can work
But a fool he'd be to look up to me;
Why hand over an iron sword to a simple man
Letting him father your creation? For he will
learn to wield your power to his designation,
and in place of showers of appreciation,
will be a blind-eyed man ravenous for glorification.
Because No one thanks their creator
No one enters this world thanking Gaia
for her nourishment, or Helios for his warmth;
So crafter, do not think they,
As they reach the height of their power
proclaiming themselves worthy of a god,
in their pathetic vanity
will not bind you to their might,
ridicule your unruly sight, seduce your lover by night,
squeeze and squeeze your soul feeling no contrite
to let it sigh its last goodnight -
No crafter! Do not let them conspire with your power!

But this power...
Torn between envy and self-pity, I've fallen
below the fabric of the universe's beauty
and beneath it, I can see the infinities of possibility
that make up my supposed ingenuity.
Fall long enough to come meet me and
You will see - yes it is our souls that fuel our tools
Turning us simple craftsmen into the gate watchmen
As we unlock the makings of life's magnificent creations
But these keys handed to us were from the master riddler herself
Whose creations were held in the garden long before the dawn of reason

Do you understand now?
The universe gives away beauty and we stain
It with tormented desire and hostility
I wish a tide would wash it all away, but
you humans seduce me with a sense of power

It's only the crafters who cry at night
The foundation beneath us never cracks
And it's only the crafters who scrutinize
To unfold the veil and see things properly
It's the crafters who live life harmoniously
and humbly know there is no beauty.
It was all just an illusion of rock and dirt
that sparkled to pander your eyes

What is beautiful, Hephaestus?
Is it indeed, as we have imagined?! This idea
Of a grand scheme that was given to amuse our little souls
And while we eat at each other's flesh and blood
The dogs are starving for more, and
I give them tools to satisfy their lures
But what is it I do?

Only the true crafter cries at night
And works tirelessly to disarm his worst fear:
The golden creation remains forever elusive

Reality's Question

many hours tick the clock
as minutes pass and birds chirp
lying on a table, erebus wallows:
what is real? and what is not?
does it or matter? or does it not?

my days upon this table he thinks
what a fitting simile
to indulge here from night to night
after a momentary blessing and cheering
to what is right and what is just
in our self-righteous rituals,
where did it go - the hours ticking?
and the birds - are they still chirping?

have you felt it?
does your heart go icy
from time to time leaving you
wondering what went wrong?

my heart has felt it -
but it is no proud soldier
to display its hurt
it withers away screaming at time
for taking its moments and putting
them away

my heart has felt it -
it has climbed mountains only to climb back down
it has seen the opera only to drown out the sound
the rubix cube turns
and when the colors align
is it real? or is it fake?
does it matter? what will it take?

the nighttime glows a pale yellow
running itself through my veins
moved along by the slow beating of
an old friend standing with a cane
displaying his pain, but he is no war hero

is it real?
to feel this way? is it real?
and if it is - what does it
matter - what can it do - why
does it speak to me - and you,
who are you knocking at my door
in the middle of the night
with a lantern for light, did you
think you could illuminate
the darkest night?
my friend, just tell me,
is it real? or is it fake?