Medusa the gorgon you cursed fool, you boasted one time to many.
Your pride was wrong, that mocking song would flutter from your lips.
Bowing down we all are bound to worship at your hips.
Only to hail at your holly tinted heals.
But who really did this curse bring most folly?
Where did the pain really go?
For we are all so deeply sorry.
You reaped what we did sow.
You poor, poor pawn.
We saw above and laughed and look to gods in lofty skies.
Twas not your fault that damage was done, for we gazed with lusty eyes.
But was not the lust that those gods hated,
that's not what we got wrong.
Rather the direction of our whispers.
How could we have done this, what did we destroy?
For it was no trifle thing.
No rainbow, tear or toy?
After all they took from you,
your bouncing, baby boy.
Returning the next day we heard a ghastly wail.
When we saw what we had done our faces turned stony pale.
Snakes like hate, with eye so cold.
weeping for what they lost.
Now we stand for ever more, petrified by the cost.