Medusa
(Perseus, if he ever shows up, must deal with the hard scales that cover Medusa's body--so the blade down the throat is the only way to achieve her death. Then, he can cut off her head, close under her chin, as the paintings of her show. Apparently [apparently], she does not know that one of the gifts to him for the occasion was--invisibility.)
Where is the beautiful Perseus this day?
Why is he not come to kill me I say!
Perhaps it's my spirit, so long dead,
Perhaps it's my body with its hard golden scales
Perhaps it's the snakes that grow from my head
Perhaps he is troubled with other travails---
Where is Hermes' gift, his sandals with wings,
Can't see his invincible armor--nor shield
Polished for him by Athena the wise
So he can see me as clear as if in a mirror
Of pale golden bronze, and upon me he flies,
Stuffs a blade down my throat
Without looking at me-- with his eyes---
Perhaps his shield's rusty from the salt sea air!
Perhaps he's decided to leave me--alone--
With life all before him, why risk it, why dare?
Perhaps he will hate being turned into stone