Pluto, or the Old God Laments

I was tall
I was great
And my fall has been disturbing as of late
Now I’m bent
Now I’m broke
And they speak of me as if I were a joke
I was cold
I was strong
I was feared as if the work I do was wrong
Now I’m old
Now I’m gray
Now I find I miss the distant light of day
In my prime, I stole the spring from the summer,
In my time, I passed judgment with a will
But barbarians threw down my temples,
And they keep on doing it still.
I was Death
Dark and proud
Hardly ever speaking, never speaking loud,
I was Lord,
It was true,
I received the mortals' tribute as my due.
I was blind
I was vain
I stood by and watched our influence wane
Now we’re dust
Now we’re bones
Living only as the names of cosmic stones.
A god’s life depends on his worship,
Without worship, there can be no god,
And although my time is long ended,
I still am remembered -- how odd.
Though I’m shrunk
I have power
And not one of you can name my final hour
Without warmth,
Without friend,
Without anything, just waiting for the end.
I’ve no fight,
No great cause,
I’ve no fantasy I’ll be what I once was,
Still I rule
Acheron,
People look at me and wonder what’s beyond
And as long as you keep looking…
I’ll go on.