Here's a poem concerning the guilt and self-mutilation of Oedipus Rex. Written in 4-2-4-2 meter.

I Am The King...


I had two eyes that wore a broach
Thirty times each
Until my greed for punishment
Made me black-blind.

My eyes were ripe seeing shame
So I plucked them
From their sour towers, eating
Them to their pits.

See my rotten sockets, like skull,
Living in Death.
Inside my empty holes, like graves,
I buried my shame.