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One day in my shop, as many before,             
there appeared a beggar at my back door.   
His dirty old hand held a small wooden box, 
very old, broken, and missing its locks.    

Picked from a pile in a garbage can,    
found by this homeless old scavenging man.  
In a dusty voice he offered his plea,              
buy this old box, a few dollars for me.           

I bought the old box from the homeless pest,   
thrown on my desk, more junk like the rest.  
The old box lay weeks, until the day,    
with the box in hand to throw it away.     

I looked inside, then happened to see,   
an interesting sight, a strange oddity.             
The box too shallow for the size of it,   
floor inside moved when pushed a bit.   

Pried with a knife the bottom came loose,   
a secret compartment I did soon deduce.    
Down under the floor was a hidden space, 
filled with a cloth in the musty old place.   

I gingerly pulled the frayed old cloth free,    
anxious to see what this secret cloth be.   
Folded open a ring fell from its place,   
simple ring of steel, set stone of no grace.  

This simple ring of no special appeal,    
certainly nothing one would care to steal.   
Why hide it away where no one may see,   
this thought filled me with curiosity.  

Ring of strong steel and a stone of hard rock,   
there was warmth in this ring to my shock.   
I rolled it in hand and thought for a bit,   
slipped it on my finger to see if it fit.   

My world exploded, I lost all control,   
twisted and turned as if in a black hole.    
Breaking into a white light exodus,    
suddenly; I am Prometheus. 
   
Cousin of great Zeus, a Titan by name,   
on mount Olympus of high Titan fame.    
Consumed with life of this great Titan’s time,    
memories flood, Prometheus in prime.  

I created man in god’s shape from clay,   
gave man art and fire to protect his way.
Mad,  Zeus took fire from man to punish,
I stole fire from Zeus, to man replenish.

Zeus was furious by my theft of fire,     
created a punishment for man more dire.   
He created a creature to torment man,
Pandora, first woman, evil the plan.   

On Mount Caucasus; ever chained I must stay,
a vulture to eat my liver each day.
Each night my liver new would grow, 
this torment for thousands of years to know.

Set free after thirty thousand years,
Zeus this allows, then did show to his peers.
A ring he made from the steel I was chained,
set with the stone of which I was retained.   
 
The clash of the Titans ended Zeus’s reign,
the end of the era of grand gods came.
Now mere mortals godly powers gone,
Titan’s legend lives on in man’s song.

I pulled the ring from my finger at last,
with no idea how much time had passed.
I wrapped the steel ring in the cloth of old,
put it back in the secret space to hold.

Perhaps one day I’d revisit this space,
to gaze upon the steel ring in that place.
Never again a god’s ring would I wear,
this wonder I’d give the greatest of care.

Robert Gene Stoner Jr ©
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