Thus cries Medusa

Not always have I been this ugly mass of flesh.

I had a face once considered to be decent.

Did play hide and seek in the old ruins of Cisthene.

Many a pale faced man

have been awed by my beauty.

Brave forms and sun balmed skins, enslaved by my aura.

My voice, said to be as sweet as the nectar in the fresh blossoms, that the bees suck and love being wasted.

But now, it’s just wistful yesterday’s that pierce my heart like shards of broken glass.

All these years reiterating the same words,

What was my fault?

My only fault, I lay trust on him and let him lure me to the temple of Athena.

Little did I know that he had veiled evil temptations under the blanket of the dark.

Robbed me of my chastity!

Before I could collect myself

The goddess of wisdom appeared.

Athena, mad with rage,

For we had littered her sanctious abode.

Then the curse she spake

echoes in my ears ever since.

A head full of adders for hair

A face so hideous, intended only to scare.

Yes! I do wish to be loved my a man,

His fingers to run down my spine exploring every inch of my skin.

Like a man lapping the beads of dew from the blades of grasses to quench his thirst.

I want to be loved thus!

But alas! In vain,

For I am destined to be so cold,

That the eyes that meet mine

Are turned to stone.

© wordpolitics.

Seeking for warmth!

I feel cold,

Severely cold.

I sit myself in front of the fireplace

It warms my skin.

But what for the chill

That I feel deep inside?

The coldness which at times

Shivers my soul too,

Freezes my heart

Making me place my hand on my bosom

To feel that beat

Which I think I might have missed.

© Wordpolitics

Leftover love.

The dregs of love

Still lingers within.

Though your intention must’ve been

To drain me dry as hay.

Tell me,

What am I to do with this leftover love?

Am I to paint colours to words

Or let my pen bleed?

I do not wish to share it with a man;

The last drop of nectar that lies hidden

Clinging onto the walls of the sepal of my heart.

For then I may be loveless.

Just a stalk in the wind.

© Wordpolitics.