The Words I Will Speak

Drunk Dionysius and Weak Medusa

I watch him dance with her,
And it hurts to know
He is not who I thought him to be.
It odd that I let my mind go there
Think of him as a good person
And yet only know the surface only.
I let my heart think and my mind rest
See where it got us, ba bum and ba bum.
Crickets in the loud Latin music, one-two-one-two.
But see I'm not allowed to have these feeling,
He is set with another from his home.
And now, dancing like Dionysius.
What this need to judge,
When souls seemed destined for destruction?
Fate if you want to call it so. 
A man surrounded by women
Is like Zeus being at the center
of a dancing circle of nymphs.
If they are nymphs and she a temptress
And he a drunk god, a product of cultural failings
Then I am a gorgon, medusa without fame.
Yet I cannot turn anyone to stone
I cannot meet anyone's gaze
For I am the vulnerable one.
Made of flesh, mortal
And as such I will die, one day.
Soon or far I don't know.
I need an oracle for such,
But only mortals can access an oracle
And I am a god, better than he.