How Could I Be So Blind?

Creon, king of Thebes was I, great in strength and might;
I ruled with iron fist and knew my word was always right.
I brooked no insurrection, neither disrespect at all,
And those who dared to disobey would surely, quickly fall.
My flaw: my pride,
Built up inside,
Ingrained within my soul.

Antigone, for burying her brother’s lifeless form,
Was dragged to face my judgment yet she glared at me in scorn.
Not only would she cross me but she'd vaunt it to my face!
I’d lost: hers was the triumph if I let her leave the place.
An angered breath--
Her sentence: death
In full and fair disgrace.

But Haemon came; my youngest son came humbly to my side,
To beg of me a pardon for his disrespectful bride.
He spoke with cautious reason, that hurt might yet be healed;
I would not heed a word of it. Her punishment was sealed.
“I say she dies
Before his eyes!”
My pride I would not yield.

Tiresias, the blinded prophet, offered his advice:
“To sin and leave sin unrepaired – there is no greater vice.”
At first I mocked his prophecy, yet underneath my hate
My pride was dealt a grievous blow – a sudden fear of fate.
I could not fight –
Must make it right –
But would I be too late?

Too late! Too late! That day I lost a niece, a wife, a son.
All self-stabbed to the heart and all because of what I’d done.
Where can I look? Where hope for help? What solace can I find?
O cursèd pride that would not let me change my stubborn mind!
Through pride alone
I killed my own.
How could I be so blind?


~Riorlynë