A poem-motto,
The gods gave us no wings to let us fly, nor claw that catch,
no teeth that rip and tear,
no fur to keep us warm at night, nor scales to keep us safe,
no paws, or hooves of speed we got,
Nay, We made our own.
Of wood and stone, we built, done with foraging for food
plants we tamed, or set aflame to fuel our forward progress
The gods looked on in curiosity to see what had happened,
in disdain they looked, for we had had some help,
Prometheus, the one who gave us fire,
He was punished for finding a light in us,
And helping us spark our fire, but we to were punished as well,
by the gods so great and callous, a hatred was stirred within us,
So with metal and fire, we forged our ire,
to cast down the gods, vorpal blades,
built to slay those who would impede our progress,
This is the fate of all who deny our destiny, death is all that awaits.
Just a poem I made that I am really proud of that ties into an idea I had for a tetralian motto,
The gods gave us no wings to fly, we made our own