Her sleeping head with its great gelid mass
of serpents torpidly astir
burned into the mirroring shield–
a scathing image dire
as hated truth the mind accepts at last
and festers on.
I struck. The shield flashed bare.
Yet even as I lifted up the head
and started from that place
of gazing silences and terrored stone,
I thirsted to destroy.
None could have passed me then–
no garland-bearing girl, no priest
or staring boy–and lived.
(Robert Hayden)
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Based on Topics: Mind PoemsBased on Keywords: silences, serpents, mirroring, thirsted, gelid, festers, astir, accepts, scathing, boy-and, torpidly