Confession’s good for demi-gods;
their powers can sustain
such numberless catastrophes
that render psychic pain
sufficient to cause trauma
that to say the thing outright can sometimes vent the worst of it,
and help them see some light.
But when confession’s not enough,
and they find they can’t cope, and face a bleak eternity
devoid of any hope,
and given what they might have done,
and come to understand, it’s strange how badly everything
can get so out of hand.
It’s then they start to envy
how our fates as mortals lie. However badly we screw up,
at least we get to die.
.
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