Echoes of Olympus: The Essence of Love

In the twilight of Chaos, where silence swayed, Before the stars their courses played, A spark was born, a boundless flame, Eros, the First, of love and name.

No form he claimed, yet all could feel, A force eternal, profound and real. From his essence, the cosmos sighed, And love arose, as life’s great tide.

Through his creation, the soul took shape, A vessel for love, its endless cape. For without love, no soul could last, No life to weave, no future, no past.

From his love, emotions bloomed, In silent depths where void once loomed. Joy and sorrow, hope and despair, Sprang from his gift, from tender care.

The Primeval Gods, in his embrace, Found unity, their rightful place. Through love they joined, their fates aligned, And new gods rose, their powers combined.

The Titans too, in might and form, Were borne of love’s eternal storm. And in their wake, through endless streams, Came beings of passion, of dreams.

Thus the Erostes, a sacred line, Born of Eros, with gifts divine. Affection’s grace, and dreams that soar, Fragments of him, yet something more.

The Elder himself, the first and the guide, Watched as his love spread far and wide. But none could match his endless flame, No being yet bore his name.

Yet prophecy whispered through realms untold, Of a child to come, with a heart of gold. One who’d inherit love’s complete light, Eros reborn, in the world’s great fight.

Until that dawn, his purpose remains, To tend the love, to ease the pains. A guardian unseen, a shadow profound, Guiding young hearts where love is found.

So Eros stands, through time and tide, The Father of Love, the soul’s great guide. In his flame, all life is spun, A story unending, where love’s never done.