trīgintā   septem

"If you would welcome here with me, a poet from earth on his tour of a mysterious misery."

He was forced to look towards the chairs. That was where the voice had projected from.

He didn't know why he had missed that in the first place. Of course he had seen the chairs and had the time to rip the structure off with his eyes.

Though he hadn't been so generous to count them and figure out what they were. He didn't want to do those.

He knew that he needed something more than his brain to process the new invention. He didn't know how to put up with it.

He would try his best of course. He had no idea how long and well he would be able to try it out.

Time would help him figure it out. He couldn't be so sure yet. He would do all he could.

That was the main deal he could seal. He allowed his eyes to suck the nectar of the gods from the new view.

He saw Poseidon seating on that isolated chair at the end of the ones rowed. He didn't know how possible that was.

He had looked towards there in the first place and hadn't seen anything or anyone there. How did Poseidon then get there?

He couldn't make meaning of it. He was trying to fathom. He was trying to build an effect to no avail. He hoped that he would be able to arrive at a sane conclusion.

He couldn't be really sure. He just wanted to figure out. Probably he hadn't seen him because he was held in thoughts.

That of course could militate against the whole deal. He did want to figure how all would be working out. He couldn't be so sure yet.

He didn't know how to do it yet. He was seeping his rage in a box. He knew that whatever twas that was supplanted, he would still figure it out.

He didn't know how truly that would come by. He knew that he would soon figure out how to make meaning of the whole thing. He was trying to digest the sapid venom.

He looked from Poseidon down and saw several other creatures. There were like humans of course. He didn't know what to call them.

He couldn't be so sure. He was only sure of what they did look like. He wasn't even sure of that. How could he be?

They were all seating and had there faces to the speaking Poseidon who obviously was their master. He needed no soothsayer to say that to him.

He was acquainted with such facts and their odds. He tried to make sense and meaning of what the creatures of subject of the monster looked like.

The only thing he could see was the fact that they all had grey skins. He had no idea who did create them. He couldn't be so sure about it.

He wanted to figure out and address his rage to the pain he couldn't identify. He would do that as soon as possible but he didn't think that that was the best thing to think.

He would only play around the odds for the meantime and figure out the rest of the things. That was all that he would do.

He quit looking. It did seem to him as though the subjects of the monster did disappear and appeared at intervals. He wasn't so sure about it.

He couldn't really be. He wanted to be. He didn't know how to be. He was caught in a labyrinth and was trying to figure out what and how he was supposed to make his way out of there.

He didn't know how to. He hoped that he would be able to figure. He was sure that he would. Probably he wasn't seeing clearly.

He didn't know if his sense had been smothered. Probably owed to the fact he was thinking too much, he couldn't then concentrate and his eyes were giving the wrong judgements?

He wasn't so sure how to put up with that. He did hope that he would be able to but he simply couldn't. He was trying his best.

That was all that he could do. He hoped that his best wouldn't be the worst. He had been trying to make it all make a sense.

It did seem as though he was just being a clown. That was super annoying or something close to that. He would tarry of course and figure out.

He tried to crack what Poseidon had said in the first place. He was placing a tag on it. He wanted to make meaning of it. He would definitely.

He would figure it out and identify with the rage. He would spill the odds and be able to fry his Instinct. He was more than skeptical if he would be able to do that.

His instinct hadn't been that sharpened but that didn't mean that it won't chop that sentence into smithereens.

He could vouch for it. He knew that he would never be disappointed. Why would he be of course? He had always had his ways with things.

He had always tried to figure out things. That was all that he had been trying to do. That was all which was the best.

He would keep pruning that best. He would never be disappointed of course. He wouldn't. He would help his mental ken help his Instinct that the helped would be helped.

Why would he had been taken there for misery? That was his sole contention. How could that even be?

Who would make meaning of such stance? He couldn't simply put up. He did wish that he could.

The creatures which were at the table were having several things on. He did want to ignore in the first place but couldn't help.

He bet that he was supposed to learn how to tame his curiosity. He didn't think that was the best idea.

He would simply figure out what was best and what was not. He didn't know how to figure that out. He didn't know how to put up with that.

He would do the best he could and allow his mental horizon to swell in pored pride and swallow the meaning.

That obviously should do. He knew exactly what that was. He would brace it. He wouldn't be abused.

One of them did have a flaming staff, another a rod with the head of a snake. Another, around his neck was a scorpion.

Another did have his head carved such that it did seem as though his skull was empty. How hideous that was of course.

He didn't know how to make meaning of all. That which did pushed him of sanity was the oddest.

One of them for neck did have a flamingo's. He should puke right there. And! To top it all was the fact that they were all male.

From his discovery he had found out that wherever there was some elevated stances of leadership, rulership and other ships which were knitted at the tail of power, women were always illusions.

He didn't know why. Aside from Enheduanna and other priestesses of Ur who would take that name as an honour, females were always confined.

He didn't know that that did happen under the waters also. He couldn't even be sure what to think of the creatures that made up the universe.

He didn't want to agree with his rage that he was short of words. He didn't want to put up with that. He should be able to identify with the odds.

Of course he wouldn't want to implicate himself but he would be able to all his instinct swell. That was the best feeling he could ever had.

He didn't know if that rule was a stereotype by some god. He did want to question why such would had created the females if he did want to disgrace them?

Then he did remember what he did make of one of his characters in his recent play. He did create him to kill him. He quit thinking.

The issue of the Creator and the creation was beyond what he was thinking. Twas a duel which would never know peace.

Poseidon seemed to had had enough of the silence. Of course he must have his way with words. That was the best thing to think obviously:

"Come in."

Damn! He was still standing by the door? How crazy that ways. He had even forgotten.

He stepped in as he tried to find a bearing for new thoughts rippling.

The floor of the hall was sticky and he could feel his sandals digging into the carpet. Poseidon's voice came again:

"You have attempts left and you would be able to return to earth for seven days. Then after that, I'll come for you again. You'll meet the several beings you're supposed to and then you would have your way. Well, let it be by freewill you'll return. Do not worry about how you would return. I have had all drafted. All you would do is just act. You can't hide from it. The new phase is and it'd catch up with you."

That was all. He didn't know if he did understand anything. The only thing he did know was the fact that both Poseidon, the subjects and he were no longer in the hall.

He didn't know where they were. But he? He was in a room. A room with a well laid berth. Uhmm.

Let it be the first thought which did strangle his mercy. It must be!