[A historical figure or obsolete god rises from the dead.]

What a world. Look at it.
Has something changed? I mean
really. Did I say us I meant it. The best
in my day are long gone. Me,
I’m starting to show my age
but I hope I seemed a fine
specimen of a leader. My kind
of power was a good session
at the table, two if I was lucky.
Public words, here and there,
as good as secrets. The best
could hold anything to anyone.
That was power. That was an art.
Weren’t they the artists? What other
kind were there? Hiding in caves, bringing
us happiness, releasing
us from suffering every day
after day after day.