Fear not, my child, for that's not thunder
That you hear, but a cannon
On a nearby plain,
And war cannot touch your noble brow
As easily as lightning may.
So stay inside a little while,
Perhaps until you're thirty-five,
Then you can run for president,
Or some other resident evil.
But then, you'll have to give up your nobility
By submitting to the vulgar vote.
And so, remember,
You could become a casualty then.

My child, if you would deign to have
Real power, then I do beseech thee,
Stay safe within your name.
Don't ever color outside the lines
Or go beyond the norms
Of such great standing.
The meek inherit the earth,
But the pious rich receive a bounty seven fold.
So eat your ambrosia,
And rest here in the fire at night
Until the Goddess Demeter
Has had her perfect work in you
And you, too, can be immortal.

-jenn