to think he made himselfwithout the helpof an Olympian Godwho molded men from clay. nor did he risefrom bone and ashor the fires of Hell. he did not comefrom the seawith a pod of vengeful whalesfor an army. he was not bornholding a silver spoonor wielding a golden sword. he grew simplyin the arms of his motherand in the hands of his father. in the rays of the setting sunthat stained the color of his eyesand dappled his cheekswith adoring kisses. he was raised in the fields and the forestsmarveling the worldand its creatures. and he made himself into the man he wanted to be.
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