Karenina’s Lament

Wretched, wretched Anna,
For whose beauty so many suffered.
You were loved and despised;
You were gazed lovingly upon
And looked down upon.
Beauty hides secrets
And secrets thrive in beauty.
You were a woman, and fell
By your own heart and hand into Hell.
Wretched, beautiful, raven-haired Anna,
Madness claimed you for a lover.
Others, more virtuous,
Worked harder to possess your heart,
But Madness slayed their vain and valiant efforts
With barely raised brow.
But, alas, not even Madness,
In all his malevolence,
Nay, not even he could hold you,
You, whom Death coveted
And seduced
And kissed
Breath out of breast.
Some shed tears,
Some shed fears,
But your memory, mired and bent,
Shan’t be shed, but shall burn instead
In hearts and history,
So long as hearts beat
To literature’s tragic rhythm.


Copyright © 2003 by Elizabeth Ann Lopez

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