Concrete Heart

They speak of stone and eyes that kill,
Of frozen men, forever still.
But none recall the girl she was—
Before the curse, before the claws.

A priestess pure, with braided grace,
She served the gods in sacred place.
But gods are cruel, and men are bold—
Her story’s often left untold.

Poseidon came with lust and spite,
Within Athena’s hall that night.
No sword to raise, no shield to part—
Just screams, and then a shattered heart.

The goddess burned with bitter flame,
And made Medusa wear the blame.
She tore her beauty, cursed her face,
And snakes rose up to take their place.

Now eyes that once held gentle gleam
Can trap a soul within a dream.
One glance, one breath, and all is lost—
A crown of death, at beauty’s cost.

They call her fiend, they curse her name,
But none recall who lit the flame.
Each statue in her garden wide
Was once a fool with sword and pride.

She walks alone, apart, unmoved—
By all the lies that men have proved.
Yet deep within, beneath the art,
Still beats a cold, concrete heart.

Not born of hate, nor shaped by sin—
But forged where pain and wrath begin.
A heart once soft, now locked away,
To keep the world and gods at bay.

So speak her name with care and grace,
And know the truth behind the face.
For monsters rise when wrongs go far—
And every scar becomes a star.

© 2025