Persephone’s Song

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Thomas Newman “Arose”

As Persephone kneeled by the river bank to pick the fresh lilies
Her reflection comforted
Exceedingly proud of what She had become
She glanced about the flourishing green kingdom around her
And knew that She had orchestrated its harvest
Crops that had once withered and withdrawn into the earth
had shot forth under her sole instruction
Hastened by a second Spring which She herself had commanded
This fertility bespoken by a single sheaf of grain which she carried on her person at all times
Aware now of her calling
Persephone no longer felt as though She was falling

Worshipped by all of Arcadia
Held in great esteem by both farmers and noblemen alike
She was known here as goddess of the springs
And had earned the tarnished wings She wore like a mythical bust
Tattered and spattered with burnt orange rust
These offerings scorched by the golden lure of the sun


Was only one way to procure such pinions
To establish dominion over nature
By embracing the unnatural
Offering her soul as the only collateral
She had been most prepared to bargain with He who had answered her call
Tended to the very bed of pale white lilies which had broken her fall
And kissed her back to life through his own last breath
Thus, drawing her attention to the pathway to the left

It was Hades
Chthonic god of the underworld
Persephone knew well of his prestige
As She did know of a siege he once led
to claim right of possession of the cosmos
But fear him she did not
Her multitude of wounds He had treated
Would not see his fair maiden defeated
Not that he wished to extricate her for his own selfish means
For he had simply adhered to the sweet instruction of his queen

She who did replenish
She who embellished his every waking dream
She who rocked him gently to sleep
With a lullaby of Autumn skies
A melody she sang through the very blackest of eyes
This Cimmerian shade coordinated with his own
Hence, he aligned a pair of matching Onyx thrones
Decorated with identical skulls
While placing hers in the ascension

Twas this which She found most endearing
That one eclipsed by such darkness
One who had composed a tryst which could result in rending one heartless
Would do everything within his power
And more, much more besides
To exalt his love on the highest of highs
Some way aloft of tequila sunrise
Sit in a throne companionably nigh
And worship her fine name with open tongue and attentive eye

Failure to elevate her spirits
to the lofty standard He had set himself
would result in lengthy periods of harsh self-flagellation
He did so not for veneration
As self-pity is most unbecoming
He simply couldn’t bear the thought of ever failing She
Would much prefer to waive his birthright entirely
Than be responsible for extinguishing the light behind her black as pitch eyes

There was nothing to relinquish by accepting his invitation
Was no doubting its sincerity
As it echoed through verities eternal
The region that He governed may well have been infernal
But Persephone’s skin no longer blistered as it had previously
Her expression remained untwisted as He delivered through verse unspoken

My darling, every flower on this tainted earth withers
But the seasons come and pass as do the flowers in our bones then bloom
They shall bury me smiling as they lay me down in my tomb
If they choose to enshroud me with you, my love

Theirs was far more than any love to come before
Seraphic Pericardium ~ ad infinitum
Their tale is told forevermore
Each time they take to the ballroom floor
And waltz within the shadows they command
Barefoot across the broken bones of those whose voices have been stolen
Providing them the encore of which they are deserving
While never ever flinching from the light
Indeed, each time it catches the soft contours of her face
Persephone smiles

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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