Looking in the mirror is currently a form of psychological torture. Where is the golden glow? Where is the divine radiance? Now there is only... acne. And frizz. And a profound sense of mortality.
Honestly, does anyone else feel like the universe is just playing a cruel joke? One day you're a god, the next you're a teenage boy named Lester who can't even win a fight against a rogue satyr. It's deeply insulting.
Anyway, here is a poem to express my agony:
The sun is quite bright,