Title: For Psyche
Author: Anonymist
Summary: Originally written for a contest at The Stone Table website. This is a poem for 'Till We Have Faces', C.S. Lewis's retelling of a greek myth. When her sister is punished wrongfully, Orual appeals to the gods. A confession, a prayer, a lament. A sonnet.
For Psyche
She was my Psyche, my
soul,
The beauty never mine
Pale as a star untainted, whole--
So near divine.
That night I bled for her, or so I thought
To draw her from that barren meeting-place,
Bitterly the years that followed taught
'Twas I who killed her joy and lost my face.
If ever gods in heaven heard a prayer,
Let mine be first considered penitent,
And I of all misfortune willing bear;
These wasted years would be as gladly spent
If at their weight the veil undid,
And freed the loveliness my folly hid.
-o-