Grey-rocking
They call me Medusa,
a monster forgotten; and here? No katharevusa.
The fickle-eyed ancient damned my life in a proxy fight;
jealous? Of what, the rape of an innocent acolyte?
The lust of a capricious potency,
and you claim it was my bosomy?
How can I be the master of my fate,
if all men desire to penetrate;
to mutiny the captain of this soul?
Forget the Gods, I return control.
This poem is about:
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world