In the Land of the Gods

at the hands of happenstance

tossed about by winds of chance

whilst having neither rein nor tether

for the Eurus or the Zephyr

and all thy passions seem to scatter

hard to pluck the ones that matter

most, as Eris finds her crown

and all the heavens tumble down

but if thine stay and hold thy stance

among the Furies writhing dance

amidst the ruins and the rubbles

ebbs and tides, the banes and troubles

Psyche strong, Love stronger still,

heart as soft as strong is will,

the dust shall settle, Ares hath past

and Joy, erelong, is thine, at last.