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