My Heavenly Curse
From my seat in golden clouds I gaze down upon the beast and the monster it has created. War.
Do they not realize that their time is too short, on such trivial matters?
Gaia’s lands will shift again, and empires rise and fall, but they still fight.
Look there: the Gallic rooster brandished on the French shields. Spears, pistols and cannonballs gathered and army with drummer boys at the ready.
Two soldiers pray to me for a great victory, ready to strike and battle to take another’s land away.
Yet they parade olive-like leaves to assuage the sins they commit.
I watch from my heavens for the outcome. Their hours of strenuous fighting are my few minutes to enlighten myself on human nature.
They claw, hew and fight for something they can never have: my curse, eternal life.
They want their ideas and government to last. Only battles are eternal if worthy of remembrance.
Governments and wars that do stand the test of time were either quite splendiferous or sad failures.
Why would anyone want such a curse, to watch the same events throughout history over and over?
This curse does not allow me to fully enjoy the beautiful risks of life.
Is that why the humans fight? To risk life and return?
I am Minerva, goddess of wisdom and military victory. I am beauty. I am ageless. I am wise, but I am blind.
Je suis toujours aveugle à la nature humaine.