Myths come like giants
In colorful attire.
Men turn into dwarfs,
And follow them with desire.

With frail, pliable minds,
They become the slaves of fear;
In a desert, without streams,
See the illusory oasis near.

Trapped in myths’ captivity,
They aren’t real men, anymore;
With their lost identity,
Follow the herd of cattle, before.

Myths are like a rival force,
Tactically capture us.
For bartering our freedom of mind,
Dream castles, they provide.

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This Poems Story

This is how some fabrications have become established beliefs