Heracles the Strong

Heracles the Strong

They’ll call him Heracles the Strong.

A prize man, magnificent, half a god.

Humanity in its most glistening form.

The rulers will have his hair grown out and combed.

His chest oiled.

Pectorals glistening in the circus spotlight.

They’ll pay to see him by the thousands.

Headline extravaganza act.

Captured all the way from the barren planet Earth.

Bought to the Historical Zoo.

Trained by the greatest man tamers.

He’ll perform feats thought beyond the capacity of humans!

They’ll parade him on stage by the leash

Then boot him

Back to his iron barred cube home

He’ll live in his cage with the other naked fleshy men.

The women will be kept separate.

Mankind can’t be trusted.

Too savage. Not advanced.

An animal, like the rest.

The Rulers will talk of Heracles the Strong

They’ll laugh

Bulging muscles like no other human

Still a human however           

They were rulers once

But the new came in

Wiser, stronger, more.

And the new came in again.

And again.

‘Here we are now.

Demoted down the chain.

And in the cage we sit

With our great hero Heracles.

Hopeless, afraid, pathetic.’

Men were never gods

Nor half gods

Just men