Medeia
I was born behind bronze walls
Far away
Called princess by some
Savior by few
Witch by many.
I have lived many years
More than I would have wished --
Years of pain and, often enough,
Years of death. Many times have I drenched
My sun-darkened hands in the warm fire
Of vital life-blood, felt
Another life drain to save my own.
I have been cursed and
Hated,
Worshipped and feared;
My legends are told
In the tavern-whispers of the wary
Or sometimes sung by bards
Beyond mortal reins.
But I am not mere legend
Nor am I all my singers would have me be.
And so I present myself to you as I am:
Not goddess, nor
Sorceress, nor
Lover; I am simply
Medeia.
This stranger is just like any other --
His find physique, his
Dark pools of eyes, his
Voice-note of righteousness.
He comes to cheat my father of our country's
Golden treasure. He needs no ...
No reason. Just greed.
Just like the rest of them. His eyes are like,
Are like the hills
At sunset, or the deepest of ocean waves.
He holds his shoulders like the son of many kings.
He is my country's enemy, yet
My nephews follow in his ranks.
I hear my father's words of scorn;
I drown in the stranger's eyes.
I see my king's pronouncement of doom;
I suffocate in the sound of the stranger's name.
Jason.
I am destined to love you.
Oh yes, he is the hero.
Watch him as he smiles triumphantly,
Waves like a born leader to his ragamuffin sailors.
He shares his secrets with none of them.
Only I, only I know
How he defeated the guardian, the ageless serpent,
The sleepless monster who now lies
Gutted, eyes blank,
Scales bloodstained and dull,
At the feet of the hero.
He steps out of the battleground,
Over the dead bodies of earth-born soldiers.
They could not touch him.
He carries the Fleece on his lordly shoulders. Oh, he hears
His sailors cheer his victory.
My victory.
Watch his swaggering walk,
The flush of his face, the arrogant tilt
Of that smile.
I promised him this victory.
He promised me his life.
My brother.
I die inside to watch this sword,
*My* sword,
Offer you such treacherous death.
But what choice had I?
I was offered father or lover, my dear one,
And I must live with my decision.
Farewell my brother, my child.
I see your eyes wild with pain,
I see your hands searching,
Grasping.
I see you as you were,
A sun-drenched boy-child, and as you are now,
A scarlet lamb.
You were never part of the bargain.
May you live forever,
O my brother.
I gave him my life
And this is his response?
I gave him my love
Is this how he returns it?
I brought him to this city, saved
His worthless hide. *I* am the mother
Of his sons. *My* witchcraft
Gained him his throne. I have killed for him.
Does he think I would not kill again?
Oh, yes, I see her beauty, her corn-
golden hair, her baby-blue eyes.
He once thought *me* beautiful too.
But she is his doll, his angel,
And I am merely his forgotten savior.
She is the one he offers his throne --
This child who plays at being a woman --
Not the one who loved him more than father,
More than brother,
Who has waited long lonely years,
Who gave up her home, her kin,
Her place in Elysium
All for him.
No.
He chooses a foreign doll, a brainless northern slut.
He thinks I can be left
Like I left my family.
He will see
I am no feeble-minded virgin.
He will rue the day he met my eyes,
Weep that he ever said he loved me,
Regret with all his heart
That he ever bid me kill.
See his castle become her pyre,
The scarlet-golden beauty
Of the frantic flames.
Hear the screaming of his bride.
Fly, winged serpents,
O my fierce, flame-fed friends.
Take this golden chariot -- my only escape --
Past the silver stars, far away
From this place of memories and blood.
Drain away the lives of my sons,
Their deaths -- and so many others --
On my head now.
They were his sons, too,
But her sons would have claimed his name,
Claimed his power.
She won't bear him any sons now,
Oh no, not now.
Fly, my friends. I see the flames reaching higher,
Eating up her flawless skin.
His screams
Her blood
Exploding scarlet up to the midnight firmament
Through the charcoal clouds
Far past the silver stars.
I fly for the other side of tomorrow
Where the rainbows touch the ground;
Where I shall live again
And I shall love again.
But this is my life in the here,
The now.
This is the tale
Of the woman
Medeia.