Hercules had his twelve great tasks,
Odysseus fought his way back home,
Victory sweetened their mead flasks
And, overflowing, stained the loam.
Rejoice! For all the greatest of men
Now set off for Olympian bliss,
For reprieve from the wrath of the siren,
For the vestal virgin’s kiss.
I am the contraption they deign to use,
The Deus ex Machina, if I may;
If such exaltation I ever was to refuse,
May Hades take me that day.
Onwards advanced the heroic guild
Intermingled with demi-gods;
Majesty so manifest in their very build
That all who beheld them were awed,
Hercules, Odysseus, Oedipus, Achilles,
All assembled on my platform;
Dionysius followed, Harbinger of causalities,
Wreaking chaos with his horns.
My strength held fast, my stance stood firm
As Divinity graced, at last, my vestibule;
But hark! What crawls? There crawls a germ!
Alas! That Fate must be so cruel.
My strength, now failing, succumbed at last,
Like a dinghy in a storm-swept wharf;
My will, that for the Gods, persevered steadfast
Crumbled before a lowly dwarf.
Ever lower I fall, descending forever
Into the realms of Kerberos
Until a soul manages to sever
The bonds that tie me to this dwarf.