A sleep that lasted aeons long,
Nestled snugly in a fleecy cloud
Content to leave those lesser beings,
Humans, to their own devices on the Earth.
His underlings were well supplied
With lightning bolts, just to keep those
Crawling, weakling slugs reminded
Of his power. Of mighty Thor.
Hovering there, far beyond the planet,
Their petty battles disturbed him not.
And so, in peace, the mighty one slept on.
But then it came, roaring, belching flame,
A metal monster carrying a crew -
Human men and women, venturing out
Away, beyond their proper sphere,
Their place of birth. And in their
Going, audaciously they ripped away
A part of that cloud, his soft nest
Wherein he slept. He woke, roaring,
Cursing, in violent anger raged
And reached for his store of weapons.
Some he flung after that manmade dragon.
But it was gone, far beyond his reach.
The rest he flung at Earth, pelted all
As ‘round it turned below him,
Bent on complete destruction
Of all that moved. Great was the
Devastation. But other Gods protected,
Guarded this creation. And so
Thor’s Armageddon failed, and
Earth, and Man, lived on, and flourished.