My people’s creativity stretches as far as I can see the horizon, if not farther. The muses themselves called my people to create and prosper in the first place for my people did not start off creative.

But isn’t this just propaganda created for my people to keep them quiet, to keep them defying their oppressors?

But who are the oppressors? The people who came and “conquered” us or ourselves?

It can be so hard to see what truly is the issue: the people who conquer or the people who ignore the conquering.

But perhaps the conquering itself was never an issue to begin with, since it birthed a new era in my people. It birthed music, art, and dance and am I not the patron of those very things?

Should I not be happy that my people have started to use the very things I’ve longed for them to enjoy?

Perhaps the muses did indeed call my people to create, only my brother would know, though, since he is in charge of them. It’s funny, I’m the patron of the muses but my brother, the patron of war and famine, got the muses.

Perhaps I too was conquered. Perhaps that conquering too led me to create.

Perhaps I will never know for sure.

But one thing I do know is that my people are starting to wake up. They are starting to understand the injustices done to them — unable as they are to adhere to my brother’s patronage.

Unable as they are to put up arms, to fight honorably.

How many have died unhonorably? How many have died to those tyrants since they made their home among my people?

They look so like my people only because they are. My people conquered their own, to keep them ‘safe’, to keep them out of harm.

But they themselves are harming them. How ironic.

I wonder when will my children will wake up fully? I wonder when will my children fight back?

Perhaps never. Should I be okay with that? Should I allow my people to live in ignorance forever? Should I allow them to continue to slumber?

Wouldn’t that just serve to harm them further?

The other patrons, even the one of wisdom, have no advice for me, for their people don’t suffer like mine do. Their people are the conquerors and their issues lie in becoming the people they oppress.

Why must my people be different? Why must my people not behave like the others?

But perhaps, just perhaps, me people’s uniqueness is good, will be good. For, even though they repressed themselves, I doubt others could oppress them easily.

Perhaps I should walk among them sometime, get to know them and inspire a few. All I’m good for are the arts, but perhaps (just perhaps) it could the seed my people need to awaken.

But for now, I must watch and wait awhile more.