persephoneandhades

Learn more about other poetry terms

The cold air seeps between my window and the steel walls of the jet. It's privet, of course, nothing but his best for me. I can see him looking towards me, wistful. He cannot come from the land of ice and snow.
The phone’s harsh glow invaded the space Revealing in the dark an olive face While others slept soundly at this hour Inside her fear blossomed and flowered
The flowers always died in his presence. He had only ever seen the bright and brilliant colors of meadows from a distance.  Never had he been able to feel the soft petals or waft the sweet scent of spring.  
Hades, You were never a saint. And yet still I remember your tears streaming down my face. Abducted, in this deceptively, beautiful place. But darling you were no saint. Voices echoed dripping with disdain, as my family felt the gravity of my pain
Goddess of spring Jewel of Demeter They say you were walking In a field that was flowering And that Hades stole you away
The farm was so far away.
Subscribe to persephoneandhades