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Medea's Metamorphosis: The Mantis


By jamesaguiar - Posted on 11 January 2010

 Just as I came,
She ate my brain.
Through omnipresent eyes
I watched her then
As stolen sustenance went
from me to her.
Did it occur in her mind
that stealing mine
was at least unkind-
That I deprived of me
would be
a rotten hulk,
Meaningless bulk?
There is no conscience
in such ars non gratis.
The reality that is 
Is hers alone.
Thus, she can condone
in her pitiless heart
for the sake of her art
consuming us all
to bait fish withall.
 
Time and again
she consumes her kin-
Never a thought to might have been.
Never contrite,
For with all her might
Her status must be quo.
Never more for this lost Lenore.
Too long has she been the whore
For her passion
For only in this fashion
Can she forge the attempt
To remain above the contempt
She, herself, holds
For meaningless goals
And her own lost soul,
And the continued depravity of her vanity.
 
So, as in Corinth,
The endless Labyrinth 
Of twisted ambition
reaches fruition .
Rapt in the blood
of those she most loved,
she falls immolated,
Remorseless, hated,
To begin anew
This miasmic stew,
This offering hecate 
Which cannot but negate
All for which she stood,
Now lost for good.
Yet, like the Phoenix,
She'll again reach the zenith
Of life on her stage-
After all, for this she has paid.

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