How deep does adoration run?
When is something fully selfless?
If the blade had pierced an inch to the side,
If the metal had torn through blood as much as fat,
Would the deed have been done?
If the precious life had spilled like ichor,
If the slitting had ended in death,
Would she have gone through,
The way the blade went through her flesh?
How selfless is selfless, really,
When it comes at little cost,
To anyone other than the others?
When is such harm justified?
What else to we see, and let slip?
How often to we twist and turn the words in our mouths,
Spin them around in our minds until they make sense to us?
How often to we change the core of a phrase,
Puff ourselves up with false knowledge and say that no,
I was in the right all along?
How often are we ourselves Orual,
Shunning the Gods for mistakes we’ve made ourselves?
How often to we like to think we’re Psyche,
Calm and fearless in the face of prosecution?
How often are we, ourselves, the prosecutors?
And when do we let it end?
How many times have we been no more than the Fox,
Scorning those who believe in what we call fairy tales,
Modern magic to which we love to turn up our noses?
How long does an act last, I wonder,
Before it becomes as real as the skin we wear on our bones?
How much of our reality becomes shrivelled,
Hiding in our veins the way Orual hid behind the Queen?
How many times, I ask,
Is that truly safer than the alternative?
How many of us hide behind shallow veils,
Dig the old selves barren graves?
How much of our life is no longer real?
How long will it last?
And think, for a moment,
Of the truth you may believe in?
How often does it shine like the oil lamp,
How often are we revealed and punish?
How often to we destroy when seen?
How many times, do you think,
We spend setting up impassable trials,
To keep ourselves hidden?
How many people, do you think,
Have truly past those courses?
Who do you actually know?
And who, reader, truly knows you?
How much of ourselves is a veil?
Do we even know who we are?
A poem based off of the novel "Till We Have Faces - A Myth Retold" By C.S. Lewis
