With a simple stare,
Deep within her darkened lair,
You’ll want to take the dare,
Of looking into her deadly glare.
But here is where the question lies,
Do you turn to stone and die?
Or perhaps, grow wings and fly?
And surely the warriors came and went,
To battle the great snake, to claim her head.
But the ground was split with ruby red,
And their bodies were laid to rest.
For the snake could die until the vow complete,
And the gods had fallen from Olympus.
For the innocent cried, “The gods must fall!”
And she climbed mountains and over walls,
Waiting for the day, she would find a way,
To make the gods’ bodies decay.
The wind carried whispers of a maiden,
Who’s land lay no more,
An arrow in her hand, in another a bow,
Who had found a way into the sky.
But in her eyes, the gods could not see,
For they held a power, far greater than their own.
And so the gods had said, to all who should see,
The maiden and her bow,
Would be cast aside and turned to stone.
Far away, from the highest mountain, where the gods sleep,
Did they cast her, to dwell very near the underworld.
To remain forever more within the temple,
That once housed a beast greater than she could know.
Alone she remained, until a man, whose eyes were strange too.
“An owl,” he gave her, “to quell away the loneliness.”
He would’ve stayed, if not for his vision.
He would’ve told her, if not for the gods.
And so he left, the owl and maiden alone.
Until the day, the gods returned and changed her form.
And the owl flew away.