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Narcissus, Son Of Cephissus & Liriope.

Whose pride & insouciance bore the ire of Adrestia.

Echo, whose mellifluous voice so revered by Venus,

Was cursed for her deceit of Hera.

Vainglorious and malicious.

Incapable of error, embellishing truth.

Convinced of their own innate charm and grace.

Exploring a gap beyond reality.

Haunting him as a shadow,

feeding a hungering heart

Distracted in the heat of the chase

Coerced by the will of Adrestia

 - veering off-path, led to water,

Oblivious to the presence of Echo.

Gazing at the surface, spied a callow visage

Seduced by his own reflection.

Adrift within delusion, addressing his very image

Narcissus spoke to the cursed Echo.

No vision of growth or change

Purely seeking stimuli, a narcissistic supply

Draining those weaker, impeding subordinates

A sadistic rationale dictating conduct.

Who Is Here? Come! Why shun me?

Let us embrace! Away!

“I would rather to die than you have me.”

Aghast, reaching down to the water,

Facing the surface.

Echo witness to Narcissus’ peril

Hypnotised by his own countenance,

Destined to wither.

Heartbreak befell the rejected.

Grief afflicted & slaughtered the body,

Only voice remains.

The illusion of ardor now faded

In death her body disintegrated,

Leaving only a flower.

Zealots of the myth of becoming,

A credence of inherent worth.

Justifying inertia to prosper

Condemning by conscious quiescence.

Fervent pride exceeding all merit

Intolerant self-indulgence.

Entranced by our own ambition

Assuring the species’ extinction.