I was a goddess once.
I feasted on wine and honey, and
Wrapped myself in simple rainments
Of earthshine and fire.
Where I went, song followed
And men poured out their sins, libations
To stain the cracked and blood-soaked ground
I didn’t walk on.
I found a man in a wood
Panicked, like a hart. My eyes softened.
I saved him with my favorite words—
Just three. “Who are you?”
You think it my sole feat,
But I level’d cities with my mercy,
Made the sun quake and orbit me.
I’m the morning star—
The bringer of life.
Forget that limp, charred hunk
Of meat you call my corpse. What is it?
Not I. I was a goddess once.
Don’t you remember?