By Liz Thomas Pattara
I sat under the willow tree
Wondering what might become of me;
Will the past repeat itself, or
Will a new future claim me?
I am on the run,
Away from my fears
Away from my nightmares
From my people, my kingdom.
They dragged me out
In the middle of the night,
They snatched away my crown,
Leaving me naked amidst the throng.
My people screamed for my blood,
I heard the hatred in their voice,
Their eyes burning with anger
As they followed me into the labyrinth.
Now here under the willow tree
Hecate's Mist surrounds me,
Her blessing—my power,
Her blessing—my curse.
My mistress's voice urges me on
My thirst for revenge drives me forth,
I stand up, drawing the Mist behind me,
I am Medea, forever Queen of Colchis.
By Liz Thomas Pattara
Comments