Why do those undying gods
Always take what is not theirs?

They do what they will
Unmindful of the wants, the needs,
Of their very own sister

They brought that wandering man,
That man of suffering,
Nothing but grief and pain,

Then they brought him to me,
Floating in the salty sea.

I nurtured him, made him whole once more,
I made his physical suffering disappear
I fed him, housed him, and loved him

I gave him all the time in the world,
And for what,
So that they can come and take him away
Because it is what they want.

He is alive due to me
With no help from those gods
Or that brute, Poseidon

What right do they have to take him,
To tell me to let him go,
To let him go home to his family,
Even though I fed him, housed him and loved him for these long years
What gives them the right?