Herculean I ask,

This being a modern day malady, Thor,
squeezes every pound from the frail and old,
Odin angles to act the goat as he squares
their operation, claiming it as being Ms sold.

Alcmene an unfaithful wife tends to the
borders of her vegetable’s garden,
While Hercules his muscles as well
as his resolve he does harden.

Where to now says Thor, to bring
down my thunder and reign rain.
Hear the mortals speak out against our names,
why o why can’t they accept our pain.

But wait shouts Apollo, hold the chariot,
please don’t dare let us take another u turn.
If we don’t give what we promised to this lot,
in that house of commoners we’ll surely burn.

Do not listen to this sun drenched blonde youth,
Saturn states, we can’t pander to the masses.
If I might be so bold, though maybe a little uncouth,
don’t pity them, poison them with my hot air gasses.

Give them more pain says Thor, no says Apollo
why must their austerity be so very acute.
Odin tired, and feeling both arguments hollow,
agrees with Saturn, gas them we already have their loot.

In the end they did nothing and Earths still turning,
Apollo, Thor, and Hercules all became football stars.
Alcmene and Saturn had an affair that’s still burning,
poor Odin, you’ll find him trawling strip clubs or bars.

So the moral of my tale of woe is far to sharp to blunt,
they take all they want as gods, believing it’s theirs to keep.
You can see them at the trough hear their alchemistic grunt,
they’ve found the golden secret, it’s us mortals, we’re sheep