You've seen me make use of mythological similes and references before. Well, brace yourselves, because I scribbled down an entire poem of what is exclusively POTO/Greek mythology parallels ten minutes ago (sudden burst of inspiration? I dunno?) and here we are, folks.
(This is the first and hopefully the last time I ever post a poem. I just wanted to fit all these parallels into one document, but still didn't want to write a full paragraph for each - just sayin'. Still, if you'd like to see more poemish stuff, by all means, let me know.)
Please R&R :)
Parallels and the Exception
i. Like Oedipus, I had been born with a sickening blemish, a stomach-churning flaw, and some would argue that a flaw was all I was.
Like Medusa, all who saw me expired, had to expire, mercy killings, provoked by my own compassion, my magnanimity, lest the onlookers had to live on with the gruesome memory of me living in their minds. Not even I am so cruel as to allow this.
Like the Minotaur, I had wandered in a labyrinth, a maze of my own devising — a hideous monster hidden away from the light.
ii. Like Narcissus (save the vanity, for she is a modest young woman if I ever saw one), she had stared at her reflection, pale like marble, beautiful like a blooming daffodil in the summer, an absent look in her eyes, until —
Like Echo, I saw her. She didn't see me, but I saw her, I did. And I had echoed her innermost thoughts while I stared at her in silent admiration.
Like Selene, I had watched her sleep, counted her breaths, gawked at the marvel that was her.
Like Eros, I talked to her every night, but she never saw me. This, I would not allow.
iii. Like the Eurydice to my Orpheus, my music cast a spell on her. Auspiciously, it made her love me.
Like Apollo, towering above all in the sky of my realm, I was a divine lyrical deity in her eyes, although evidently, the term "Apollonian beauty" never quite applied to me.
Like Charon, I rowed her across the dark waters of my familiar Styx, into my own Underworld.
Like Pygmalion, I moulded her to be what I had wanted to see.
iv. Like Psyche, she had wanted to see me.
Like Pandora, her curiosity became her damnation, as hell broke loose under her hand. I screamed. She screamed, too, when —
Like Semele, the sight of my true form burned her eyes and carved itself into her mind. She ought to have know better, this foolish child, who —
Like Daphne, had rejected my advances. She'd rather throw her life away.
v. Like Galatea, she crushed my heart in her alabaster hands.
Like Helen of Troy, a war broke out over her love.
Like Hades, I emerged from my home down below and took her with me, until another Orpheus, this one without a lyre, ventured into my kingdom to steal her away into the light.
Like Persephone, she left to grace the world above with sunshine.
vi. But unlike her, she never came back.