I was face-to-face with the mighty Gilgamesh,
his maddened gaze was empty,
yearning for companionship, for acceptance,
He was bound to the earth, almost chained.
Like so many after him, he wildly swung his arms,
his gaze ever present as he bellowed,
the immediate trees shook, but no more after,
In his asylum of the great Plane, I was the only one to know he was there
'O ye of whom yourself have crowned king, you are a fool!' he yelled
'Thou cannot count the Zebra! Ascend the tower of Babble!
I slayeth Humbaba, for naught! Enkidu, gone, immortality; lost!
For every mountain climbeth another three ditches thou fall!'
I did not meet him by will; and he did not wish to be avoided,
Like all the wrathful with the burning flame he was consumed within himself,
but like those who had failed before he lacked the fuel to press forwards
the fire in his heart was doused quickly, and he himself collapsed.
After besting the mighty Gilgamesh; I considered his words,
this plane was empty; In the happy time I was alone,
In moments of great joy I wallowed in solitude,
and in the distance, someone cried
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