Not she whose mortal beauty doomed her breath,
Nor she whose name the trembling poets fear;
But Euryale, whose cry outlives the death
Of bright-haired Medusa, rings the ear.
Her voice — a brazen blade the night must hear —
Goes keening through the caverns of the west;
When Perseus fled, it followed, sharp and clear,
A storm of grief no granite could arrest.
Immortal-born, she could not share the rest
That closed her sister’s ever-sleeping eyes;
So rage and mourning in one throat were pressed,
A sound the startled constellations prize.
Still through the dark her iron lament runs:
The loud one lives when quieter grief is done.
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Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: July 16th, 2026 07:03
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is about Euryale, one of the three sister Gorgons from Greek mythology, the other two being Stheno and Medusa. For more context, visit https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stheno_and_Euryale
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments2
Matthew I love this poem which is no surprise in that I love Greek mythology. This poem well worded and organized lays out the story and in beautiful rhyme takes it to the cosmos where it is printed in the stars. A fave my friend
Matthew, this is a remarkable sonnet. By shifting the focus to Euryale, you breathe new life into a familiar myth while preserving its tragic grandeur. The emotional depth and classical voice work together beautifully...this one will stay with me. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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