A beauty mortal sets upon the land, Grace by serene nature and sand. Innocent and bliss, as god’s own boon, Her eyes shine bright, gentle as the moon. But fortune has its own dark tales, Her beauty dragged through sorrow’s veils. A god’s own mischief, unworthy and grim, Her charm was lost in shadows dim. Here is the tale I now shall tell, Poseidon — a name, yet dark as hell. He saw her beauty, could not refrain, Chased her through shadows, driven by bane. He assaulted her — she could not flee, Tears fell heavy, her beauty’s plea. A god of sea, yet godless in deed, To shame a woman for his greed. Athena, the goddess, descends to show, Sees the poor maiden lying low. She takes the god’s side, her judgment high, And curses her beauty — for law defied. Her beauty now gone, to darkness she fell, Such gods and their justice — who can tell? She wished the guilty to bear the pain, While she lay cursed in endless chain. Now tiny heads of snakes on her crown, The pain still lingers, hope long gone down. Who gazes upon her moonlit eyes, Turns into stone — their hearts still cry. Once she bore beauty, now burdened with curse, Even gods now fear her, hearts perverse. They sent forth a hero to silence her breath, But justice was buried long before death. Yet she stands as guardian, her serpent-head high, Turning all who dare look to stone and die. Still I see the beauty in her haunting face, An innocent soul, wronged by cruel fate and race.