Embraced by Medusa

Medusa, he who was adored by gods,
Before becoming cruelty personified,
Delighting in the torture of my mind,
And he who stalks the corridors of my life.
Wrapping his tail around the heart that loved him,
Crushing the soul within to keep it his,
Breathing his poison breathe into all corners,
To keep a past alive, at least for him.
While I his prey, am always kept restricted,
Crushed ‘neath the weight of all his hope, his fear,
His trophy and his treasure to be guarded,
With lies and with the death of this his prize.
How have I seen the lives of those I cherish,
Petrified and crumbled then to dust,
For fear that I might find some way to flourish,
And find some hope other than his fangs.
The tragedy of this is his invention,
The sullying of name and character,
Committal of another to a life of madness,
The painting of them as a dirty soul.
Yet always is Medusa so beguiling,
His words the honey sweetness tainted death,
And always am I dragged back to the center,
Of his sanctuary, this his temple of my death.
There must I stand as stone wrapped in his coils,
Until perchance another soul may come,
To breathe some breath of hope and of redemption,
Into these withered bones I have become.
Would that I had never met him,
Would that his serpent heart beat not for me,
Would that four thousand miles were now not four hundred,
Would that the journey could begin again.



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