I have mem'ry and awareness, but I have no shape or form.
As a disembodied spirit, I am dead and yet unborn.
I have passed into Olympus, as was told in tales of old.
To the City of Immortals, marble white and purest gold.
I see the Gods in battle rage on high,
Thunderbolts across the sky.
I cannot move, I cannot hide.
I feel a silent scream begin inside.
Then all at once the chaos ceased.
Apollo was astonished; Dionysus thought me mad.
But they heard my story further, and they wondered, and were sad.
Looking down from Olympus on a world of doubt and fear.
Its surface splintered into sorry hemispheres.
"We will call you Cygnus, The God of Balance you shall be."