Gorgon Mirror
A poem
I am the reflection
in the cold, cracked glass,
a face that has lived
a thousand lives
yet never aged.
My hair,
a nest of serpents,
hisses truths only
the dead can understand,
their tongues forked
like the lies
I once swallowed whole.
I see them coming —
heroes with swords,
polished shields
that betray their fear.
They think they can
conquer me,
silence the ancient wrath
coiled in my gaze,
as if I am stone
they can shape,
a myth they can control.
But I am more
than a legend.
I am the pulse
of the earth,
the first scream
torn from the void.
I was cursed
not by gods
but by men
who feared
the power
of a woman
who knew her mind.
They dare not meet my eyes,
for they know
the truth will strike
like lightning,
turn their bravado
to brittle ash.
I am the end
they never saw coming,
the shadow
that haunts their dreams.
In the silent dark,
they whisper my name,
but I am beyond
their reach,
the reflection
they cannot escape.
And when they fall,
crumbling into dust,
I remain,
immortal in my fury,
forever etched
in the cold, cracked glass.
I am the Gorgon Mirror,
and I will never blink.
