I have memory and awareness,
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But I have no shape or form.
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As a disembodied spirit,
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I am dead and yet unborn.
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I have passed into Olympus
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As was told in tales of old,
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To the city of Immortals,
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Marble white and purest gold...
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I see the gods in battle rage on high...
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Thunderbolts across the sky...
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I cannot move, I cannot hide...
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I feel a silent scream begin inside...
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Then all at once the chaos ceased
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A stillness fell, a sudden peace
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The warriors felt my silent cry
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And stayed their struggle, mystified.
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Apollo was atonished;
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Dionysus thought me mad.
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But they heard my story further
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And they wondered, and were sad.
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Looking down from Olympus
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On a world of doubt and fear,
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Its surface splintered
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Into sorry Hemispheres.
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They sat a while in silence,
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Then they turned at last to me:
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"We will call you Cygnus,
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The god of Balance you shall be."
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Hemispheres IV. Cygnus
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Rush |