From a too big bed
where echoes ring through his head
of battles with demons nightlong

He brews his morning elixir,
dons his workday armor,
reminds himself to stay strong

An everyday ordinary hero,
he faces the God's whimsies solo,
so low, but reaches deep and carries on

So many times he falls
to sweet Circe's hypnotic calls,
only to find his heart and dignity lost

as she leaves him to root
in ashes, covered with soot
from the embers of lover's un-star crossed

Days stretch from guess to mess
Turmoil never gives a chance to rest
but to him to find love's worth the cost

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