Delusions of Grandure

Vienna, April 2013
Mighty, aren't we all?
Gods; and their favorite prodigy Children
Beauty and perfection standards
From where all others
Those down there, below us
Under our eyes
Fail even to start to compare with

Fierce, aren't we all?
With our weapons that just we are able to wield
With our techniques passed and kept among us Gods
With our armies of lesser people who worship us and will kill themselves out of the satisfaction that we stay alive for their friends and families
Gods of War that nature itself is afraid
And trembles upon the spoken words of our names
And bows upon ourselves

Criticized, aren't we all?
And hated, and humiliated, and bullied, and demotivated, and despised, and looked-away, and ignored, and defeated, and destroyed, and pushed-away, and mocked, and and and!
Aren't we  all?
And we fall on our feet
Devastated, weaponless, crying, hopeless, pathetic

Aren't we all?

But no!
Who said that we don’t fall on our feet just to get closer this sweet scent from the Earth that makes us feel alive?
Who said that we don’t fall on our feet just because we want to take a break?
Who said that we fall on our feet and that we will stay there?

Who said…?
Yeah… no!