In the shadows of ancient tales she dwells,
A maiden cursed with serpents for her hair.
Her beauty lost to whispers and to spells,
A gaze that turns the boldest hearts to stone.
Once fair and envied by the gods above,
Her golden locks and gentle, radiant face,
Betrayed by those she thought to trust and love,
Now feared and shunned, she roams a cursed place.
In silence, she wanders her lonely isle,
The echoes of her laughter now a sigh.
Her tears fall softly with a bitter smile,
For beauty’s price was paid with none to cry.
Yet in her eyes, a story left untold,
A heart still beats beneath the stone and cold.
A tragic tale of sorrow intertwined,
In shadows, Medusa’s legacy defined.