Aphrodite

Your little high and mighty Odysseus

Claims to love his mothеr

But let her die of a brokеn heart

He was busy fighting

More like busy spiting the cyclops

Let him feel the pain that

His mother felt and rot

Wait, please reconsider this

Really Athena? These old tricks?

Ares!

Ares, Ares

What kind of sick coward

Holds back his power

While his friends get devouroured?

He didn't even fight Scylla

Didn't even try to kill her

Hides inside a wooden horse to

Get the job done

Never handles things upfront

Pathetic and weak like his son

Hold your tongue now his son's my friend

And tell your lover that a

Broken heart can mend

You want more bloodshed? Then set him free

To get back to his homestead

He'll make everybody bleed

Ugh, release him