Hermes' Mask Poem by Kemberly Semana Penton

I was left in the darkling wood
Under a maple tree along the road,
I sat alone, torn by deep distress
Of the wode love brought by Hermes.

Erewhile a man guised of Hermes came,
Spoke out of his triumphs and his fame
He talked in palpable-gross way
Mazed by his own vantage and glory.

But I was unmoved, disgusted by stories
Of how valorous he was, not his follies,
He appeared enticing, wished he'd go away
And so he walked and took another way.

I felt the grief did still not flunk
And seemed to occupy my love bank,
It enamelled mine heart, so black of hue
From the feigning love methink was true.

Another came and sat beside me
With simple look, to swear I admire thee,
He did not talk; he dared not ask
He wasn't wearing that Hermes' mask.

The man was a nightingale, my Philomel
He listened to my woes, he's such a gentle,
He understood, spoke his thoughts briefly
His words to my ears were like symphony.

I was moved by his presence, relieved
From the agony of love I once lived,
Oh how I yearned he'd never go away
Still beside me, just with me, to stay.

He took the grief rooted in my heart
Burned it with his love, not just a part,
Though I was doubtful, he didn't fray
He chose to stay with me each day.

And so I tried to return the love he gave
I searched deep within his heart and found a cave,
It was dark like the wood I was once alone
Close I walked, closer to the cave's direction.

Little by little I started to unveil
The man I thought I knew and fell,
Into that cave he hid Hermes' mask and his fame
He even hidden me, Hermes, his real name.

I was bewildered by the truth I've seen
Felt trapped like I was been,
The Hermes man and my Philomel was one
My hopes and dreams with him were gone.

He ran to me and sought for a plea
Knelt beside me under that maple tree,
He said love changed him for the good
Confessed he was blessed to wander in the wood.