I have memory and awareness,
But I have no shape or form
As a disembodied spirit,
I am dead and yet unborn
I have passed into Olympus
As was told in tales of old,
To the city of Immortals,
Marble white and purest gold
I see the gods in battle rage on high
Thunderbolts across the sky
I cannot move, I cannot hide
I feel a silent scream begin inside
Then all at once the chaos ceased
A stillness fell, a sudden peace
The warriors felt my silent cry
And stayed their struggle, mystified
Apollo was atonished;
Dionysus thought me mad
But they heard my story further
And they wondered, and were sad
Looking down from Olympus
On a world of doubt and fear,
Its surface splintered
Into sorry Hemispheres
They sat a while in silence,
Then they turned at last to me:
"We will call you Cygnus,
The god of Balance you shall be"