Prometheus Unbound

On the cushion I chose to sit

Knowing what is for me

Of Divine knowledge

I have only a little bit


To impress upon air

My own sound I yell

And to meet the lair

I sing lullaby of hell


She keeps quite and tight

While I openly rejoice

The bright clothed night

I greet joker joked thrice


I have a painting borrowed

On the money I dispel

She lifts the curtain towed

Only to find Promethous impell


I decide to forego painting

And embrace her rather

She is chanting

Songs of her dead father


Only he has brought the Promethous unbound.



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