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Death and Dahlias : A tale of Persephone

You have heard of the crimson seeds,

You have heard of my husband's greed,

You have mocked me and pretended to mourn.

Reduced me to a tale forlorn.

So listen O' mortal,

And listen well,

To the tale, of Kore

And the queen Persephone.

I was born of lightning razed earth

A product of loveless love.

The ichor in my veins running vain,

A Goddess, but only in name.

For I was Kore - the little girl,

The flower maiden, pure and weak.

Pretty, but that's it.

Flowers don't win wars, they said.

You call him an abductor,

For how could mortals understand

Why the symbol of immortality,

Would choose to be the queen of the dead.

But O' foolish mortal

He was the one who saw the little girl

but decided that he saw a queen instead.

He didn't have to force-feed me those seeds

That pomegranate was sweeter than you would know,

Filled with the nectar of freedom and victory.

Flowers don’t win wars, they believed,

And yet they ended up serving me.

So listen O' mortal,

And listen well,

To the tale, of Kore

Who chose to be Persephone.

For I am the bringer of death,

Ruler of the earth,

I am the coffin you will fall in

And the flower that will adorn it.

Written by Aanis Narnolia


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