Contemplating the Poetics

Tragedy has ever been the poet’s stock in trade,
Evoking fear and pity with the verses that he’s made.
A tale of woe and sorrow sometimes satisfies the soul:
Of noble heroes swept away by fates beyond control.

They’re always fair and beautiful. Their presence overawes.
And yet, to keep them humbled, they are touched by fatal flaws.
A geas that can’t be ignored, honor crossed by love;
Their feet of clay bring down their lofty finer parts above.

A ballad about broken hearts, can anyone resist?
Who’d have thought that Eros could make such a bitter fist.
When honor’s caught between two loves, someone’s got to lose,
Knowing he will face damnation for whichever way he’d choose.

When brother fights with brother, be it for the noblest cause,
The angels round them weep, and even devils might take pause.
The purest strains of fury answer to honor’s demands.
When the stain of brother’s blood is on a brother’s hands.

From the rising of the curtain, until all dramatics cease,
The words bring their recipients emotional release.
But who would want to live a tale that ends in tragedy?
For tragedy may make great art, but poor reality.