Metamorphoses

How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?                                 – C.S. Lewis

You are ugly,
You hate that Psyche is hideous;
You disguised love for jealousy,
You traversed Cupid’s best-laid plans.

You said ‘I looked on the things about me with a new eye’, but
You hide your face in a thick frippery;
          Nothing that’s beautiful hides its face
          Nothing that’s honest hides its name
You  said to Psyche ‘In your heart you must see the truth’
In truth – in reality that’s more real than you know-you are more ugly.

You also shall be Psyche –Cupid cursed,
After she came up and switches on the light;
But you won’t succumbed to the power of gods easily as I imagined,
I am Ungit. Yes, you look more like Ungit.

And so Psyche must die in order to die
Die before you die

When she returned from the land of the dead,
You throw yourself down fully;
You sink back into your real world,
Cry out that you did not loved Psyche truly.

But Psyche –the real Psyche carried you with delight,
And you fled your veiled existence;
Who can feel ugly when the heart meets delight?
You also are Psyche.