Hair golden like honey,

skin more smooth than porcelain.

She bustles through the breeze--
dropping each doubt smoothly, like stones skipping on a lake.

Fear reaches her eventually,
swallowing her confidence.

She draws a sharp breath,
fearful of what lie ahead.

Hazy and unaware--
Medusa cogitated in the silence of Athena’s temple.

Those who dare lie with another’s man

receive eternal wrath.

Deteriorating emerald hues
capture her once sparkling eyes.

Slithering snakes, snap necks with painful glares--
grave mistakes.

Those who dare look me in the eyes,
face the wrath of being turned to stone.

Lips as red as the bloodshed I caused,
I reminisce.

Statues, upon statues, I observe--
voices approach and disappear.

The damage caused haunts me,
I lie awake.

Forever trapped,
in a fiery residence I now call home.