Pomegranate Poem by Cherie Mort

Pomegranate



I hold the cavernous red chest in my hands, ruby jewels winking up at me as the dim light hits them
Tears drip down my face and fall into empty cavities within the coffer
They solidify and turn white, opaque
Clear rubies

He catches a tear from my face as it falls, inspecting it as it is transformed
The blood on his hands rubs off onto the tear, staining it red
I shudder to think of how many lives he has already taken
And now I am numbered among them
But to live, rather than to die like the rest
To the world, I already am dead
Interred with the bones of countless other mortals
Now they are immortal, as death does not end

He brushes back the hair from my neck, leaving a smear on my skin
His cold hands make me shiver
In my ear he whispers, 'Sing to me, Dear One
Call the spirits forth from their dwellings
And I shall make you queen'
I open my mouth, but no song pours forth
No sweet libation touches the altar of Death
Or the ears of its high priest

He looks at me, disappointed, and sighs
Fearfully now, I start to sing
My voice fills the hollows of the earth, echoing off the walls
His face looks content, as though he is remembering a happier time
I, too, think of a happier time as I continue my sad ode,
Of halcyon sun and skies blooming with color
Of the moon which I can no longer see from my buried prison
Of the mother I left behind, scared and weeping
She would never want this for her daughter, her only child, her precious girl

I feel something being placed upon my head
I open my eyes and look into the mirror on the wall
It is a simple silver crown with onyx and garnet stones
The center jewel is a pomegranate
I look down as he slips a ring onto my finger
Also fashioned of silver, the red pomegranate tear now a stone set into it
'Behold, your queen! ', he says to the spirits crowded around the dais we stand upon
He takes my hand and kisses it, but I do not look at him; rather, I glance around at the shades who are whispering and gazing at me in awe
'This is your home now, my dear, ' he whispers to me again
'Your kingdom welcomes you,
Queen Persephone'

Sunday, November 15, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: fate,fear,life and death,song
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