Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Medusa

"...How she cursed and lost her glory..."

Medusa

I couldn't write
On that sorrowful night
I couldn't think
But when I beheld that blood-red ink
Dripping from my burning veins
It made me shudder at the sight of this pleasurable pains
The drop of blood splattered on the paper
And my fragmented words turned into vapor
Then I saw those drops
Gathered into huge rocks
Among them a steam flowed
And with the glimmering crimson glowed
So when night thickens were afloat
I made a paper boat
To go to distant lands
To see beautiful fairies with glimmering hands
But when I reached there
I saw a lonely sad woman with snakes on her hair
And she told me about her story
How she cursed and lost her glory
when I wanted to ask her a question
She only told me to see your reflection
Then I found myself again in my room
Back to the palace of gloom
And when I saw my reflection in the mirror
I screamed in terror
I was the lonely sad woman with snakes on her hair
Who was drowning into despair.






Article © Yasmin Hemmat. All rights reserved.
Published in the May 25, 2020 issue .
Image(s) are public domain.
More by Yasmin Hemmat → More poetry → Full issue →
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