There is no Zeus

I'm well aware the streets aren't paved with gold yet I still tread upon all forlorn roads, not wise enough to see what I am told, expecting much anew at each crossroads. I long knew that grass is no more greener yet I still walk across from parched to see, wisdom will not still my inner dreamer, for yonder may I find my own ash tree. The monsters of my past gone from my head yet each and every night before I sleep, not wise enough to check beneath my bed, so, back, in vivid dreams, they always creep. Not wise enough to know, though child has gone, there is no Zeus, and I am not Memnon.