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"medusa" a Poem by Livia Hilhorst

famous not for my story or me

but for my blessing and curse,

a guardian and isolator.

my only remaining presence

is that twisted moment of my demise,

a remnant of what once was mine.

my wise thoughts tumbled in disarray down

and out from my tormented body,

lost amid the waves tender embrace

and the winds fleeting chase.

my screaming disembodied,

dispersed and recollected over time,

a haunting memory.

defence stripped away,

my voice rendered mute.

now speechless i scream in agony,

why can’t you hear me?

when my head fell my voice fell with it

leaving only an eerie symphony of silence.

my stone statues stand with soundless grace

witnessing and rejoicing at my downfall,

whilst i roll with burning quiet

through endless time and space.

all that is left of me now is

my legacy reduced to rubble

but who emerged from that rubble

but a naive and youthful boy

claiming victory and immortality.

in a twisted dance of fate

he brandished a sword and a shield,

the facade of any hero.

he tore apart my existence

for glory and fame,

whilst i bore the weight

of the gods' cruel games.

yet in his triumph, my suffering laid,

silenced, stifled, in shadows i fade away.

once extraordinary, now harmless and plain,

a victim of the fates, in my home i remain.

i am medusa

will you listen to me now?

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