The Logos of Zeus
It is not enough to be a glorious and grand host
For when my guests have eaten their fill and sung their songs
Their minds often turn to diversion and intrigue
Each competing for my favor and my attentions
And so it was with a simple game, a jest in fact
The idea that any perfection could be compared to another
and that the immutable primal being of the gods could be judged
by the standards of a looking glass is a comedy for all time.
It is a weary and incensing thing to be Host of all.
For all look to me for approval, and it is in my name
that the greatest villainies are committed.
In my name are the unjust sacrifices offered,
With a tired heart I demurred on the game this once.
For this game was one that could not be won by any God.
The grudge would have been borne until man no longer spoke
And my household would have been cast into ruin.
And yet that was not enough. A judge was demanded.
Demanded of me, who had freed all, and given up my freedom in return
Demanded of me, who gifted to all, despite my right of conquest.
Demanded of me, who watched all from high Olympus and knew this was a false game.
So I chose a fool. I chose a man who I know would choose
to grovel before the gods and to think only of how he could benefit.
The nature of Paris was clear to all when he flattered my beloved son,
despite his own work, and his own ambitions.
Such arrogance he showed. So brazen. So much disrespect.
With but a touch of my hand I had granted him power,
and he immediately forgot that I could just as easily remove it.
And he swaggered, and preened, demanding such favors of the gods
As I often did of man and woman.
For a moment.
I saw in Paris my own visage.
My anger, my pride, and my lusts, all within him. My glory reflected in a shield.
And then the hour ended. And Paris was Man again.
And I looked and saw my glory shining in man across the world.
So many aspiring, but none paying homage. Their thoughts all on their own glory.
I watched as they claimed to act as I did, but instead struck each other upon the back.
Challenges accrued in secret. Vengeance in the dark of the night.
And I chose to let them fight. Let the wounds I had created
Be cleansed by the carrion birds and the maggots,
Let the earth vomit forth the pustules of betrayal and lies
Let all be rid of this rancid bile that has but one name
Let the heavens shake with my anger, and the rains torrent
washing the blood and debris from the battlefield.
Let the seas drink of man, and may the storms rage with my voice.
Let all know that it is because of Zeus that this has come to pass
For you have desecrated my house after being invited.
For you have eaten of my goods without my bidding
For you have sat at my table and insulted my generosity.
For you have raised a hand against another under my peace.
For that, there is nothing but my anger.
Beg to some other for mercy. Bow in tribute before some other,
if you wish to be forgiven and offer up your birds as a cheap appeasement.
I demand that man accept his role as I have done mine.
The blame still sits. And none but my favored daughter has so much as touched it.
Even the greatest of the gods cannot bear the weight of this alone.
For it is greater than that of the world, this burden.
I too shall take a small part.
I shall take a large part.
For that is the burden of the King. If they are to act in my name,
I must accept that it was I who put the sword into their hand.
While the use of the sword is not of my doing, nor the forging,
it was my command that it be done.