Medea

“...but wronged in love, there is no heart more murderous than hers.”-Euripides
  Medea

 With the infamies of a man, thus dejected
      The wrath of hell grew from scorn
 Once mother and bride, then rejected
      The patience of love, thus stood warned

 Vehement in her reciprocal discords
      The balance has fallen to one side
 An alien bowing to foreign lords
      Who in her rejection but cries

 Yet all through those tears exclamations
      Fatality reckons a path
 Pointing out incriminations
      That boils her tears in their wrath

 Mischief has supplanted her reason
      And love has abandoned her side
 For in her husbands cold treasons,
      He incurred the hate of his bride

 When allegiance was his he could glory
      Knowing the power behind
 Would carve him an immortal story
      That would last through the ages of time

 Wickedness knows many colors
      Worse when drawn from the heart
 It can make villains out of sweet lovers
      Who prove they were false from the start

 Perfidy forsakes explanation
      The right of the deed is its own
 Ingratitude knows no relations-
      It turns back on its home

 He would call her the faultier
      Saying he gave more than she gave
 Yet he takes the horns from the alter
      Ordering her will to behave

 But vengeance has plans for enacting
      A terrible price he will pay
 Recompense has a way of extracting
      And her hand will no longer stay

 Her womb proves a curse in its wonders
      What profit is their in his seed
 When he would deny them their mother
      In all of his self-serving greed

 Sorrow gathers her weapons of fury
      Justice has fled to the hills
 Who will be her judge and jury
      When she cast down her implacable ills

 Princess and kings, the sons of false men, are falling and yet she bemoans
 The gamut was lost, and behold the cost, the breaking of a once fabled home.