Noble Antigone
Intent upon God’s right
A king’s decree be damned
Murmured ritual
Sprinkled soil
And hanged herself
killing inconstant Harmon
innocuous Eurydice
Leaving only
Grieving
Chastened
Creon
Only?
What of Ismene?
Where wanders the practical sister?
How mourns the sole survivor?
What keeps her awake in darkest night?
Twisting her bed sheets
Wandering echoing halls
Grief? Guilt? Anger? Frustration?
Loneliness?
Bold Antigone
Flames bright
For a brief moment
And lives forever
Sad Ismene
With tempered loyalty
Lingers long
And dies unmourned