Poem: Deirdre

This week, I decided to return to form poetry to work on rhyme, rhythm, and meter. This is a sonnet about Deirdre, the foremost tragic heroine in Irish mythology. She was prophesied by a druid that she would have unparalleled beauty with twisted yellow tresses and mesmerizing grey-green eyes. Kings and lords would go to war over her and Ulster's three greatest warriors would be exiled for her sake. Thus, the king of Ulster had her brought up in seclusion. In the sonnet, I make an allusion to Yeats and Woods who both wrote plays based on Deirdre's story (Deirdre 1902 by WB Yeats and A Cry From from Heaven 2005 by Vincent Woods). I'm not entirely satisfied by the last quatrain and the couplet, but I am working on it.
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Deirdre

Had I but one wish, I would ask for eyes
to see beyond those stones of seclusion.
For beauty defines that visage which lies
guarded by mythology’s illusion.
Chatoyant pupils, and a voice like glass,
her tragic song crumbles wall after wall.
A last curtain call from a bonnie lass
would even Ulster’s greatest men enthrall.
Who could know that her siren lullaby
would forever sleep the men that chased her?
Entombed in tale, she could even defy
Time’s scythe, Yeats and Woods would concur.
Knowing this, I must still pursue her voice
for her greatest sin was to take men’s choice.