Poetry: Arbitrary

A/N: A poem from the vaults.

Arbitrary

I was thinking about gods

and how Athena chose her favorites.

Was it because they deserved

a deity on their side in their wars?

Not so much, as it was just

arbitrary fondness on her part.

Arbitrary is not kind.

Nor is it love, in all truthfullness.

But no one accused the gods

of being fair or even kind, so,

can we pass judgement on such beings

beyond our own moral codes?

No, but when we realize

the gods are just reflections of us,

our arbitrary nature,

can we still justify turning heads?

Can we avoid the truth then?

Or do we stop idolizing gods?

The choice to leave butterflies

and yet, crush ants beneath us like peasants,

does it then make us godlike?

Or does it make the gods more human

if some of us are the ants

and others are the loved butterflies?