Narcissus and Echo

by Anton Wills-Eve

<a href=””>Narcissism</a&gt;




His words were mellifluous,

Sweet coated in honey.

His kisses treasured by her

At a stream where they lay.


His image, reflected, echoed

His own love of Echo.

Yet this love was false.

How so? She would not say.


Jealous Juno struck her dumb

For concealing these revelations,

And fairest Echo to stone

Was turned that sorry day.


Thus be never like Narcissus,

Egocentric and just adoring

Only your own image, for

It will drown you one day.