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Medusa
Medusa, the Greek mythical creature, once a beautiful desirous woman.
She was cursed into a hideous creature that would turn every man to stone at the very sight.
What made her evil, her beauty or the ones envious of it I ask?
Either ways was if her fault, was what happened really right?
To compare her to any broken woman, why was she any different.
From the truth of our nature, why should we ever hide.
Desire desire Oh! my beautiful desire
You want to feel the love of her eyes
Your essence so strong, a burning fire
Ever so blind to her venomous lies
Ignorant of her charms and her gaze
You dance about in a melodious tone
But stories don't lie of begone days
Whence every man she turned to stone
Long ago youth filled her cheeks
Beauty she was unmatched in skies
Now in her presence only deciet reeks
Yet to seduce her many knights rise
Though wise you grow with the test of time
She won't test you with poise and grace
Princes thought she was worth every dime
Statues left broken till the end of days
You hold her hand she will let you a while
With every touch she knows what you lack
Feeding on your character she will smile
For now she knows where to attack
A beauty she was no doubt one time
When men of this land ravaged her bare
She could not fathom what was her crime
Her scorn dear desire is then only fair
That portrayal of a woman I believe is a reflection of ourselves, man or woman alike , a reflection of our nature, of darkness and light.
Can we say she is truly dead when ever so evil lurks around, and ever so beauty walks the ground.
For we must kill the evil and not the evildoer, as where you cut one a thousand will spring.
To what truth shall us, then our desire bring.
But as her evil consumes her more
Innocent blood spilled will take its toll
And as more death washes ashore
With a righteous blade her head will roll
A man in the land will one day rise
With a sword and shield he will fight
Release her from pain to claim his prize
Kill her in reflection and hide his sight
Light will once again shine on lands
The scent of flowers will mesmerise
The lessons lost in long forgotten sands
As all evil departed with her demise
And ages after she becomes folklore
A naive habit, our deciet, will thrive
Finding her way to us once more
In our actions will Medusa be alive.
© raaifshah
She was cursed into a hideous creature that would turn every man to stone at the very sight.
What made her evil, her beauty or the ones envious of it I ask?
Either ways was if her fault, was what happened really right?
To compare her to any broken woman, why was she any different.
From the truth of our nature, why should we ever hide.
Desire desire Oh! my beautiful desire
You want to feel the love of her eyes
Your essence so strong, a burning fire
Ever so blind to her venomous lies
Ignorant of her charms and her gaze
You dance about in a melodious tone
But stories don't lie of begone days
Whence every man she turned to stone
Long ago youth filled her cheeks
Beauty she was unmatched in skies
Now in her presence only deciet reeks
Yet to seduce her many knights rise
Though wise you grow with the test of time
She won't test you with poise and grace
Princes thought she was worth every dime
Statues left broken till the end of days
You hold her hand she will let you a while
With every touch she knows what you lack
Feeding on your character she will smile
For now she knows where to attack
A beauty she was no doubt one time
When men of this land ravaged her bare
She could not fathom what was her crime
Her scorn dear desire is then only fair
That portrayal of a woman I believe is a reflection of ourselves, man or woman alike , a reflection of our nature, of darkness and light.
Can we say she is truly dead when ever so evil lurks around, and ever so beauty walks the ground.
For we must kill the evil and not the evildoer, as where you cut one a thousand will spring.
To what truth shall us, then our desire bring.
But as her evil consumes her more
Innocent blood spilled will take its toll
And as more death washes ashore
With a righteous blade her head will roll
A man in the land will one day rise
With a sword and shield he will fight
Release her from pain to claim his prize
Kill her in reflection and hide his sight
Light will once again shine on lands
The scent of flowers will mesmerise
The lessons lost in long forgotten sands
As all evil departed with her demise
And ages after she becomes folklore
A naive habit, our deciet, will thrive
Finding her way to us once more
In our actions will Medusa be alive.
© raaifshah
