Medusa Poem by Quinn Hartley
Medusa
Cursed was she, for she broke
Her vow of celibacy
Her intentions, though pure, went up in smoke,
When no one heard her silent plea.
She was defiled, spoilt not by choice,
--For it, she was made a monster.
Cursed was she, all but her voice,
Her beauty- it had cost her.
Pure of heart and soul was she,
But horrid was she made.
And when to slay her ventured he,
He- a hero was portrayed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 9:55:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
