even as Persephone herself rises
from the fiery depths,
the tears of her mother
giving life to the seedlings,
while birds sing up in there heavens
sweet songs,
and flowers rise to there
brilliant blooms,
and ostra smiles fairly at
the earth
the sun warmer and brighter
even with new love and old love
and park bench lovers
squires and butterfly's
even in spring rain,
i despair,
i pull my hair from the roots
screaming,
and box up things from you,
and curse your name,
your existence,
i rattle the chains of your ghost,
i burn i rage
like Hades himself,
having lost his only true love,
so let me be this
goddess of war,
as i burn in the cold fire of my
helplessness,
my unrequited lovers spent,
panting in my unrest, my cruelty,
for would i dare to look in there eyes,
n see you
your smile
the sun itself
robbed from me
taken away in flight
that spring
many years ago...............
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem