Of the divine and wicked

Nisolomou
1 min readSep 29, 2024

Poetry for hedone and life.

Photo by Ivan Rohovchenko on Unsplash :)

The world’s obstacles are not too few to mention.

Nor are the thoughts that keep me up awake,

until late at night.

Too many were the days I was bored to become better

and too few were the nights where my mind was silently prudent.

It’s me

She shouts from within me.

Hedone

That dreadful goddess of hurdling

which seems so blind whilst beckoning me in fright.

I do not answer you

I shout.

For, in my endless path to enforce my virtues

on my passionate journey to eudaimonia,

I have eyes nor ears to the sirens that bring forth doom

to wanderlust sailors such as me,

suffering from the hiraeth of a self they could lose.

To her I do not bow,

I refuse to acknowledge as equal

and I dream to be ridden off her eventually

lest my psyche be handed over to anyone other than Theia,

that primordial Goddess who knows no equal;

Proudly standing in subtle illustrious neutrality.

This poem is part of a poetry collection of my own creation. For any reuse, please feel free to contact me. Nisolomou (Stelios Nikolaou) 2024 ©

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